Turn to Me
by finnickisalive
Summary: Sensing the Dark Side of the Force infiltrating in Anakin, Padmé is able to intercept him before he attacks the Jedi Temple with the 501st Legion. But what happens after she is able to make him see light - will Darth Vader continue to rise or will Anakin remain? Rated M for later chapters.
1. I - Agony

DISCLAIMER: _I own nothing apart from my own work. I do not own Star Wars, LucasFilms, Disney, Anakin Skywalker - fml - and if this work of fiction is similar to any that have been done before, I apologise in advance. I can assure you, this was created from my mind with Star Wars as the basis and my own insanity commingled in._

Author's Note: _I wrote this for the 10 year anniversary for Revenge of the Sith. Being my favourite film, and also being like so many other Star Wars worshippers, I am completely fascinated in the 'what ifs' of the universe. One of which, what if Padmé was able to make Anakin see the light before it was too late? Happy 10 years to such an amazing film and to the decease of my sanity!_

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Agony. It was all-consuming and more pure than anything.

The regret that branched out into unknown crevices of the body, gripping tightly and constricting the life there. The torment that darkened even the brightest of points that loomed and suffocated every life form present. And the disgrace; oh the disgrace was deadly as it made the stomach convulse in disgust. It was all too much and it woke her quicker than any nightmare ever could.

Padmé looked around, brown eyes consumed with alarm and seeing sharply despite the darkness of the unlit bedroom. A delicate hand was placed on the hard roundness of her stomach, the movements inside as uneasy as her heart felt. Instinctively, she looked sideways, already knowing she would be met with an empty surface beside her as she had grown accustomed to but this time, it was the person who should be there asleep beside her that sent dark thoughts into her mind. At least, what Padmé perceived as a thought. It was more of a sensation - a knowing - than anything else.

Something was wrong, and not just something. Someone. Her someone.

The gasps began to dwindle into sharp intakes of air as Padmé looked to the Force to calm herself. Her hand that was placed on her stomach now going to her chest, forcing the heartbeat to steady itself from her heinous awakening. A scowl had been etched into her brow since the sensation woke her and it made no advancements to wipe itself from its location.

What had happened? Was there a disturbance in the Force or even worse, was it Anakin? Of course it was Anakin. Not other sentient being could produce such an effect on her. Since she could remember, they had been connected by an invisible tether. The impression she felt had overwhelmed her before. It was a preternatural connection between them that neither had spoken of but already knew. Something connected their beings as one, and it wasn't their marriage or love for one another - it was something else.

But Anakin producing such darkness? It was blasphemous to even think.

After what seemed like hours but what she knew to only be two minutes at most, Padmé unwillingly lowered herself onto the comfort of the down pillows surrounding her. Her left hand falling into place on the side of the bed her husband slept on with her right hand resting soundly on the lightly kicking infant inside of her. Whatever darkness that had chosen to awaken her from her slumber had dispersed enough and she was left with only the scowl to physically show for it. Within seconds, though, it attacked her again, this time, Padmé retching into the waste bin beside her bed for times of morning sickness. This wasn't morning sickness.

She gasped for air. Coughing in between her heaves from choking on the acidic bile that threatened its way out of her in the most menacing way. Her stomach was rolling in waves, but not from the child inside. It was more than that, more than any emotion she had ever felt. It was passion, anger, fear… Hatred. Just the thought alone made her vomit again and the baby inside kicking in protest making the upheaval even worse. Once the nausea subsided, leaving dark spots in the corners of her vision, Padmé attempted to push her way off the bed, gravity defying her as she fell back onto the silver silk that felt rough to the touch. Sensitivity was the reigning sensation along with confusion. A vertigo that one would feel as they were being sucked into a black hole, if anyone could survive it that is.

The lights in the room came on much to her relief and the familiar shuffling from the golden droid shining its way into the recently lit room. Brown eyes squinted at the sudden light but quickly became accustomed as Padmé continued to lean over the bin filled with the rejections of her body.

"Oh, milady! Is there anything I can do for you?" Threepio sounded in the most alarmed of tones he could deposit.

Padmé held up a hand, grabbing hold of the droid to assist her while she stood. Her free hand wiped gently at the corners of her mouth, clearing it of the residual liquids that were there before turning to the golden face. "Something's happened, Threepio," she informed the droid, her soft voice cracking from the acid that burned the walls of her throat. Anguish infiltrated every point of her face and even her neck was strained. C-3PO cocked his head to the side, taking in the overall demeanor of his Mistress and the sickly pallor of her skin.

"Whatever is it, milady?" he questioned. His metallic arm continued to allow the Senator to hold onto it, finding it absolutely necessary to offer solace in something so miniscule since his probing wasn't doing him any justice.

Eyelids closed once more as the uneasy turmoil continued to sprout inside of her. It also didn't help that the baby was the most active it had been with double the impact of movement Padmé had felt from it throughout her pregnancy. As she forced herself to take deep breaths, calling out to the Force to give her some form of strength and serene for both herself and her child, she was given something else in return. A location, or the sense of a location at that.

She gave Threepio one last squeeze knowing full well that he wouldn't feel it - done more so for herself rather than for a reassurance to the droid - and lifted her chin to reinstate her strength between them.

"I need you to prep transport to the Jedi Temple, and quickly," Padmé instructed sternly.

She let go of the cold arm and made her way into the fresher, brushing her teeth to get the vile taste from her mouth before stepping out into the room to go into her closet. C-3PO was still perched in the spot she had left him seconds prior and a sense of irritation radiated from her small but bulbous being.

"That is an order, C-3PO. Please. Be as fast as you can." Her order came as near to a shout as her voice could get and any other time, Padmé would have felt guilty at raising her voice to her droid, but now was not the time. Whatever was drawing her to go to the Jedi Temple was growing stronger. Instructing her that time was of sparse availability for leisure and ease.

Something was terribly and utterly wrong, and any other time, she would not act upon her instincts in such a manner. Instead, she would always reach for her personal comm. link that held only one number she knew by heart that would lead to the appearance of Anakin's stature in holographic form. Tall in height despite the small, blue display given to her. But that same consistent niggling was there, clawing and breaking her skin that he wouldn't answer. Whatever was filling her with dread, as much as Padmé tried to deny it, the source of it was him. And she couldn't stop reminding herself that.

Within the course of five minutes, the metallic satin nightgown she had been wearing was replaced with a dark, loose-fitted tunic that partially concealed the mound threatening to give away her and Anakin's secret to the public. A leather belt in the form of an X embraced her chest, giving her upper body support while the tight, black pants fit snuggly to her thin legs. The knee-high boots she wore were laced firmly to her calves and it was all concealed by a black cloak that matched that of a Jedi's - per her husband's request. To visit the Jedi Temple at this time of post-midnight was peculiar in itself to Padmé and she knew that for anyone else on the grounds it would only seem unnatural. With two of her blasters firmly placed in their respective carriers, the short woman made her way out of the metallically decorated room, leaving the lights on in her wake.

"Milady, are you sure it is smart to travel in your condition at such a late hour? I do believe Master Anakin will not be much pleased to-"

"Not now, Threepio," Padmé cut the droid off, walking up the ramp to the chrome star skiff awaiting on the Republica's hanger. "Was this the only ship available?" She looked over at C-3PO, her brow even more furrowed than before.

He leaned sideways, hesitance in his form, "Yes, Mistress Padmé. I'm afraid so. It is of highest performance, though, and will-"

With the lift of a small hand, she silenced the robotic voice leading only the sound of wind caused from the passing ships and the liveliness of the city around to play before entering the silence of their ship. It was one from Naboo and she couldn't help but feel somewhat at ease from the familiarity it granted her.

After perfectly starting and maneuvering the ship off of the hanger and into the direction of the Jedi Temple, another wave of needles pricked their way throughout her body. The tight grip Padmé had on the steering handle loosened as she nearly fell out of her chair. If it weren't for the straps holding her into place on the seat, she would have surely fallen but within a minute, she had acquired control over her senses.

"Milady, I beg your pardon, but you don't look of highest accord," Threepio said worriedly.

Padmé rose a hand to her head, feeling the cold sweat that had begun to fall down her smooth forehead. The lines delved like caverns on the skin though, and she forced herself to focus on the passing influx of lights - that is, after she had rolled her eyes at the droid. Of course she didn't look 'of highest accord.' Something was wrong with Anakin and it was doing damage to her both physically and mentally. She quickly shook the negativity from her mind, calling to the Force to calm her as Anakin showed her.

Coruscant was brightly lit even during the night - an eternal day refusing to allow the darkness to consume it. Brown eyes traveled as downward as the ship's front would allow and just below, the Undercity bustled with the true darkness of Coruscant. She wondered if the darkness ever lightened without the help of the artificial lighting that had been implanted, but Padmé had a feeling it never did. There were good and bad beings in the world, but below watchful eyes, the bad tended to take over.

The curls that had been pulled back and away from her face now felt too tight, but when she brought her thin fingers to loosen the hair, the skin only proved to be as sensitive as she felt everywhere else. It was a discomfort she had never felt, stronger than she had ever felt and all Padmé wanted to do was get to the Jedi Temple. The Force was strong in pulling her towards the structure and even the baby could sense the urgency for she hadn't felt a strong movement from it since leaving the Republica. A consoling hand went down to the swell, deftly drawing circles in a maternal way as if to tell her baby that everything would be all right.

It had to be. She would ensure it.

Landing the ship with skilled grace, Padmé did a once over of the bridge. Fingers busied themselves with the hook of the cloak as she walked circles along with confined space.

"I want you to stay in here, Threepio. I will inform you if I need any help, but stay in here until I give you word of anything else." The woman turned, facing the droid with sheer panic written all over. Now that she had arrived at the Temple, something was holding her back. There was a dark energy there, a very dark energy and it made her more on edge than she was in her home.

"Of course, milady. If necessary, am I to contact Master Anakin?" he questioned, standing in an attempt to calm his mistress. In return, though, she only held up a hand as she stopped her movements for just a second. Swiping her fingers over his metallic features.

"No… No. He is here," she whispered, looking downwards. "I feel him here."

With the bite of her lip and a curt nod, her arm retracted. Padmé leaned in to kiss C-3PO, his gold self ceasing all movement at the gesture and eyes lit in their light-yellow nature watched as she exited the control room in as quick of a pace that her legs could take her.

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Author's End Note: _Again, happy 10 year and tell me what you think in the comments below. I'll post accordingly, so no worries. I need to get this sucker out :)_


	2. II - Yellow

**DISCLAIMER** : _I own nothing apart from my own work. I do not own Star Wars, LucasFilms, Disney, Anakin Skywalker - fml - and if this work of fiction is similar to any that have been done before, I apologise in advance. I can assure you, this was created from my mind with Star Wars as the basis and my own insanity commingled in._ **Author's Note** : _Thank you for the feedback, dearies! Truly hope you approve of this chapter. Remember - I will post a new chapter for every 7 responses - favs/follows/reviews. x_

Once outside, Padmé looked back at the chrome ship. A shaky breath was taken and she lifted the hood of her cloak to cover her head, setting her face deeply into its dark depths to conceal any form of her features that could be exposed. She kept her frame close to the shadows of the pathway, choosing the far side of the main entrance in case she would need to hide from guards maintaining the premises. The looming height of the Jedi Master statues passed along with the many stairs it took to the archway displaying Jedi murals. From there Padmé hid behind one of the pillars of the archway, just enough in the shadows with enough light to illuminate the entryway before her. It was the perfect vantage point to see any visitor that entered the building.

It was calm outside the Temple. The sounds of few words spoken inside the structure along with the zooming of aircraft above almost deceived the woman to believe that it was just another typical visit. Another task sent to her from the Senate in which she was needed to deliver a message to the council; hiding in the shadows afterwards and awaiting for Anakin's presence to join her in the secrecy of the darkness. However, now, the shadows were becoming overwhelming in the sense that they wouldn't hold their rare moments of shared love. Instead, they felt abysmal, like if she stayed too long in their presence, it would consume her.

Minutes passed and with the time slowing around her, the sense of obscurity filled her. It was like the hurricanes of Naboo. Seeing the storm approach in a grey onslaught only to turn the nature surrounding her somber with rage and fury. There was a storm approaching. A far worse one that kept building in strength and destruction.

A hand went to her chest as the troubled woman tried to cease the fluttering of her heart; hearing the sounds of movement begin to echo off the caverns of the entrance archway. Padmé took a chance and stole a glance around the pillar she had hid herself behind, making sure to conceal herself in the shadows. Despite her heightened senses and the need to know what was happening, she still knew she had to play it safe. She usually would evade things, preferring to take things as they were and accommodate to it. But with the added measure of protecting another life than her own, extra precautions had to be taken always. What her brown eyes saw though wiped all her conditioning from mind. In a distant part of her, there was a tightening in the lower part of her body, a cramping, but it didn't register. The only thing that did register was the cloaked figure ascending the last flight of steps to the ground of the entrance in which she was standing on.

Continuing to keep herself in the shadows, the Senator held tightly to the cement pillar. Her nails scraped the rough surface, filing down as she continued to clench harder to the solid base. It was the only thing keeping her from falling sideways at what she was witnessing.

"Anakin?" Padmé breathed out in confusion, watching the habitually dark cloaked form of her husband walking towards the entrance where she was.

His hood was drawn over his face so as not to be seen - just as she was - but she knew it was him. The sway of his walk; the broadness of his shoulders; the faint gleam of his gloved hand's metal straps. It was what was behind him that threw her off. Rows and rows of white clad Clone Troopers followed obediently behind Anakin's wavering cloak that blew in the artificial Coruscant wind. As he neared, a chill went up her spine. Her small body vibrating from the coldness that loomed over the site like a fog swooping in unexpectedly.

The same dread that had awoken her the first time and settled deeply into her bones during the second wave sparked up like an explosion after humming below in the embers. Her stomach convulsed and Padmé brought her hand up to her mouth to halt any vomit from surfacing, instead, forcing herself to swallow the bile back into place. There was a darkness surrounding Anakin, and she didn't have to be a Jedi to see it. It was there and it was all consuming.

Once he had made his way to the archway, his pace steady and advancing - threatening with the legion of clones behind him and the casting of his long shadow drawing back as far as the last row of troopers - Padmé moved away from the pillar she was hiding behind.

"Anakin?" she called, voice breaking slightly as she made herself known. She attempted to steady her shoulders to appear more strong, but it was done without avail.

The sudden constriction of her throat caused every point in her body to recoil. Hands flew up and took hold of the strained ligaments, clawing at the invisible Force choking her. Her body was lifted into the air with her legs kicking as if it would bring her down - a pathetic attempt and she knew it. Anakin approached Padmé at a deathly three glides but she couldn't get any other sound than the sputtering of her inability to fill her lungs with the oxygen she was deprived from. The hood of her own cloak was still drawn over her face, concealing it as she thrashed around in midair. Every attempt at calling out his name was met with a tighter grip and the sense of lava splashing onto her face with the breaking of blood vessels beneath skin was becoming too much for even her.

"Who are you," Anakin growled, putting fear even in the woman who could never find it in herself to be afraid of him even during his darkest hours.

Once he approached her, however, looking up into the black hole that had consumed her face Anakin finally let go, letting Padmé drop to the floor. Violent coughs racked her body as her lungs shocked her with every intake of air they could clasp onto. Delicate hands gripped onto the floor only to have one go to her stomach in a protective manner.

"Padmé?" she heard him question, fear interlaced in every syllable. She sensed him beside her but on instinct, Padmé drew away from Anakin. The air around him made her sick, both to her stomach and to her heart. He had all but drawn back his hood, agony painted across his features as the Jedi reached a hand out to her.

"An- Ana…" It was no use at that point. The rawness of her throat made it no match for the fluidity of her voice to come out. Whatever darkness she felt before, though, was quickly evaporating and the normal presence of her husband was returning.

Strong hands that felt like home delved inside her hood, drawing it backwards before they were placed on either side of her face. Thumbs swiped at the moistened skin and her reddened brown eyes started up at the blue ones, but she wasn't met with their crystalline familiarity. Instead, an evaporating yellow was drawing into the pupils and before she could control it, Padmé recoiled at the sight.

"Anakin!" she exclaimed, crawling backwards and away from her husband. His name grated her throat and she brought a hand to hold the sore area.

The yellow hue returned to his eyes, a dark crimson rimming the colour in finality that brought terror to the woman before him. She could see fibres of blue try to string their way into existence, and the sheen of water that told her tears were forming.

"What are you doing here, Padmé. I told you to wait for me."

Padmé continued to shuffle backwards and away from the darkness masked as her beloved. The cold floor shooting up the skin that touched it. His form was brutal and whatever it was made the shock that was inside her go on high alert. Shaking hands went to the holster holding one of her blasters but it was quickly taken from her by Anakin's approaching form. She knew better than to take hold of her second blaster, deciding that later rather than now would do her justice unlike the first one. Instead, her hands took hold of her belly, doing whatever she could to shield the unborn infant from what she sensed to come.

"What have you done?" Padmé asked in utter disbelief.

She saw Anakin wince at the question but he made no attempt on answering it. The clones behind him had halted their march, staring straight ahead at the doors of the Temple. Her husband's tall form fell onto his knees before her, reaching out to her arms that were encasing their child. Pain swung through him at the sight of his wife attempting to protect their baby from him. Questions raking through him in hyper-speed as he could feel the darkness leave him. He made an attempt to close the distance between them only to cause Padmé to flinch in return.

"The Jedi have tried to overthrow the Republic," Anakin finally said, trying to explain his case. His voice was slow, though. Menacing, as if it were filled with hate. But Padmé knew hate couldn't be it.

Brown eyes looked up at his - the blue had returned. For a second, she thought maybe the yellow she had seen - the eyes of a Sith - had been a figment of her imagination. "I can't believe it," she told him, incredulity present in her tone. _It's the lighting_ , she reassured herself in return.

Anakin made out to reach his hands forwards once more, ignoring the task he was to fulfill after seeing the face of hers stare at his. Padmé allowed his touch to press onto her despite him choking her, knowing that it had been on his own impulse, possibly thinking of her as an intruder since she was, in fact, dressed as such. She did, however, keep the sight of yellow eyes hovering in her thoughts, unable to fully push them away. His hands clasped onto her face. The calloused touch of his left hand compared to the cold touch of leather from his right caused his wife to tilt her head into his warm presence. There was still something cold in him, she didn't doubt that, but the overwhelming sense of his safety was now taking its toll.

"But you're safe," she reassured, placing her hands on top of his.

He scowled quickly, the ghost of a smile hinting onto his lips but refusing to make a full appearance as he internally rolled his eyes at his wife. "Of course I'm safe, Padmé. I had arrived in time to stop Master Windu's attempt to assassinate Chancellor Palpatine. If it weren't for me, the Chancellor would have fallen under the hands of the Jedi and he would have been murdered." By the end of his explanation, his deep voice had dropped another octave sending chills through her spine once more.

"Anakin..."

Padmé couldn't believe it and it was obvious in the way her face contorted in thought. First the dark presence and now the Jedi's attempt on the Chancellor's life?

Anakin looked down at his wife. Staring at her with an intensity she had never seen from him that caused her own hands to be placed on his face to keep him with her somehow. Something told Padmé to keep his mind with her and she reacted as such.

"The Jedi are not to be trusted, Padmé."

With this statement, brown eyes looked bewildered. Not trust the Jedi? "But Anakin, you're a Jedi."

He pulled away from her touch, the lines between his brow making a full frontal display as he continued to stare at her with such severity, it made her grab hold of his hands to attempt to anchor him from wherever he was venturing off to in his mind. "My alliance is with the Republic, Padmé. I will not betray the Republic."

A look of confusion curtained onto her face. "But Ani…"

Anakin stood, his height looming and making Padmé feel minuscule compared to him. The shadow that cascaded from him, a shadow brought on by the lights alit both above and behind him brought her into the dark. She felt small, unimportant. As if whatever was fueling him in that moment aided in diminishing who she was and what she stood for. " _I will not betray the Republic,_ " he reinstated.

Brown, tired eyes looked up at him. The same confusion written across her face was present in the hues of her eyes. With the pain in her throat all but forgotten, the legion of clones awaiting obediently behind and the frozen ice that infiltrated her bones, Padmé lifted herself from the crouch she was in. Small hands balled into fists to the point where her nails were breaking skin but she stood anyways. Her jaw clenched tightly as a fire blazed in her eyes. The power radiating from Anakin was one to be feared, but fear led to hate and she would never feel that. Even if it was what could be felt from the man before her. She would not let him influence her that way, for without her stability, they both would surely be lost.

"So you will not betray me," Padmé countered. Her chin rose to show the dominance she had over herself despite her surroundings being clouded with hatred. She could see the torment in Anakin's face; his eyes watering and rimmed red.

"My loyalties lie with the Chancellor," Anakin shouted back. It didn't make her flinch, though, even if inside it felt like her chest burned.

"And my loyalties lie with you, but what you speak of is madness!"

Fury erupted inside Anakin and the repercussions of it could be felt like a bomb's explosion. His reaction made her wince and she took a small step backwards, the numbing of pain taking over the anger she felt moments prior. Padmé gave her husband a warning glance then looked away towards the approaching trooper. They both gave their attention to the clone but the soldier looked only at Anakin.

"Lord Vader," he began with a deep bow before rising. "We are to execute Order 66-"

" _Lord Vader_?" Padmé interrupted.

The trooper looked at the woman, but the way he looked at her made her uneasy. An eerie gaze that she couldn't see due to the helmet he was wearing, but a cold one nevertheless. What she felt was robotic, like one from a heartless droid. A gloved hand was held up to the clone halting anymore statements as Anakin turned his attention back towards his wife. With the look upon his face, it suddenly hit Padmé what she felt. It had been sweeping in an undercurrent in her mind, but she finally dipped a hand in and came back with the pure truth.

"Ani..."


	3. III - Power

**DISCLAIMER** : _I own nothing apart from my own work. I do not own Star Wars, LucasFilms, Disney, Anakin Skywalker - fml - and if this work of fiction is similar to any that have been done before, I apologise in advance. I can assure you, this was created from my mind with Star Wars as the basis and my own insanity commingled in._

 **Author's Note** : _I hope you're not in public while reading this chapter. I rewatched Revenge of the Sith and tried my best to incorporate the cinematic argument between Anakin and Padmé to this. Tell me whatcha think since I blew my sanity away with this! x_

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The air around had grown stale, like dead air. The clone trooper, the one Padmé had deemed to be Captain Rex had returned to his station among the rest of the Legion, the 501st Legion - Anakin's own troops. They stood quietly at attention. Too quietly, as if it were the calm before the storm. Just as Anakin had led them to the Jedi Temple, the malice was still present and growing stronger. The clones were growing impatient and so was Anakin. His broad shoulders trembled, his gaze turned downwards as Rex walked back into formation. With the distant engines of the aircraft soaring above, the pillars of the archway echoed the city's sounds. It was the only thing that linked the husband and wife to reality - for what was before Padmé didn't belong in the universe. Anakin? Falling to the Dark Side? That was preposterous. Yet, deep down, if she searched her feelings, she knew it to be true.

Across from her, still looking down, turmoil bubbled ravenously inside the man. Emotions were haywire as a side Anakin once saw as moral was telling him, fighting with him, that what he was doing was wrong. The death of Mace Windu hung heavily over him, but it was nothing in comparison to his most recent doing. He had choked Padmé, inflicted harm to her. Not only that, he hadn't even allowed her presence to be felt when it was what always the second most powerful thing that fueled him behind the Force. To Anakin, she was the colours of a nebula, the sun after a storm and the thousands of stars demanding to shine their brightest. At times, he couldn't even believe that the galaxy hadn't collapsed from the strength she emanated; then, there were times when even he felt like he would collapse from the tethering hold they had on each other. Yet, despite all of that, Anakin had been so engulfed in his hatred for the Jedi - for his order from the Chancellor to be fulfilled - he couldn't even sense her presence. He had simply been guided by the Dark Side of the Force charging in him and it had led him to hurting Padmé. That was no where near keeping her alive as Palpatine had promised.

Anakin stared down at his wife. Tears had begun to fall from the anguish that swept through him as he took her in. _What have I done?_ The very words he had said when he severed Master Windu's hand, realising what he had done were now bouncing back into his mind and wreaking havoc. How could he have allowed himself to hurt her? How? He yearned for her but couldn't formulate any words, only the essence of thoughts. _My love..._

She felt his calling. Racking up her spine and illuminating her heart, though it didn't fully reach her mind just yet. "My love," Padmé said with great caution, approaching the tall man and reaching up to grab hold of his tear stained face. Thumbs swiped away the liquid and fingers caressing into the sweat drenched curls of his golden hair. "You are a Jedi. You are my _husband_. Don't go down this path, Ani. Please, don't go down this path, I can't follow you down it."

Anakin's trembling form was hunched over her body as his hands took hold of the sides of her waist. They clenched tightly at first but the squeezing immediately ceased as he realised that he was being too careless with his restraint. Hearing her words threatened a smile to cross his features but it quickly evaporated before it came into view.

"What are you doing here, Padmé?" he asked. His thumbs swiped back and forth against the thickness of her shirt, his face hardening slightly as Anakin remembered that she had to wear clothing like this to hide her pregnancy. Something that made him so proud and love, ridiculed into the dark.

Fingertips traced over his sharp features, searching for something, anything, that would give her some clue as to whether what she felt was true or not. When they went up to trace the scar over his right eye, Anakin tilted his head into her touch, a deafening calm soothing the disruptive waves that had been rolling around them. This peacefulness fueled Padmé, her next words chosen with great delicacy but with pure sincerity coursing through them.

"A darkness woke our child and I," she told him, trying to ignore the fact that he had ignored her previous statement.

Another tactic would be needed, and she knew exactly what to do. Immediately, her thoughts went to whenever they were together, alone and away from the public eye in the Republica after their times apart, Anakin would make no hesitance when it came to attaching himself to her stomach. Pure love radiating from him for both their child and for Padmé in which he would immediately rise to kiss her. He loved her. No one could deny that because with Anakin, yes, he may be the definition of impulsive, but with impulse comes determination and he was determined to never let the impulsive need to love her to ever be diminished. It had only been intensified when she told him of her pregnancy and what love he gave to her, he also gave to his unborn child with her.

Dropping her right hand, Padmé took hold of his left hand. The hardness she felt was expected from the metal ligaments beneath the coarse leather glove he wore to cover what he shamed. She gripped it tightly though, despite knowing he couldn't feel her touch with his robotic hand, and led it to rest on the swell of her stomach, encouraging his left hand - his human hand that could still feel - to do the same. As expected, his left hand moved and rested near the peak of her belly, but there was still hesitance that could be felt jolting through him. "It was the most awful of feelings, Ani. So terrible that it made me sick and all I could think about was you. To be here with you because I had this feeling that you would be here. The Force... It told me to be here with you."

Her words were canderous and Anakin consumed each one as they were spoken. To know that such a negative energy had done this to her only fueled more anger into his system. It was what this anger was directed to that left his mind in confused shambles. He had always known that Padmé was Force sensitive, now more than ever because of the strength in the Force their baby already displayed. What he wanted to know, though, was how was she so in tune with him that she had sensed what had happened? It had always been a question he'd always ask himself but never brought to light, but now, it seemed to be against his favours.

Another onslaught of questions bombarded Anakin's mind from there. Did she sense him kill Master Windu? Or was it the imbalance of the Force when he accepted the title of Darth Vader, Master Sidious' new apprentice? And most importantly, if Padmé sensed the Dark Side of the Force that was settling in his bones when they had been on opposite sides of the city from each other, what was she perceiving from and of him now?

Broad shoulders straightened as Anakin allowed the animosity of his thoughts to fuel him; his brow scowling deeply and his jaw clenched to the point where he heard his teeth grind uncomfortably. His hands, though desperately challenging his mind's dominance by refusing to pull away from her stomach - their baby - were forced away from their anchor anyways. Honing in on every ounce of passion and exuberance he could summon from the Force, Anakin pulled away from Padmé.

He had to do this. He had to fulfill his duty as Darth Vader because it was for Padmé and their child. If he didn't, he'd lose them both.

The firmness of his stature situated the dynamism of the Force that flowed through his veins, Anakin biting on the inside of his lower lip as he grew in height and strength. Padmé's hands recoiled and he watched as she placed them over her stomach, refusing to flinch as he realized she put them there in a protective manner. With every one of her movements a reassurance settled into his mind, coating over the questions he had been asking with their answers.

A sweat had started to fall from the overexertion of his mind. Thoughts churned and continued to churn as Anakin tried to make sense of it all. He had assisted in the death of Master Windu, doing it wholeheartedly to save the Chancellor. _Because without the Chancellor, Padmé would die,_ he told himself. That meant that he had let emotions that a Jedi should never display guide his actions which lead to the death of the Jedi Master. That surely meant that he was no Jedi for killing another. _But I have always been greater than the Jedi_ , the voice in his mind said. _The Jedi are the enemy. They tried to kill the only thing that could save Padmé!_

The fury in him raged on like the molten rivers in Mustafar. How quickly his thoughts went from Padmé to the Jedi to what they could have done, which only brought him back to his beloved. Of course she would be able to sense what was growing inside of him. It was a power so strong, even he was amazed that it continued to inflame him with its glory. This was what would save her - what would bring them unity and peace. These powers were what would bring him to lead an empire where he could rule and live as what he wanted a life to be like. What it could… What it _would_ be like.

"So the Force drew you here to me?" Anakin question, the way he said it making it sound more of a statement than a need for clarification. He figured it was the most simplest yet fulfilling question, even though it didn't comment on the darkness Padmé felt. Bringing light to the Dark Side of the Force in which she felt would only further any more repulsion she was displaying towards it.

Brown eyes stared at the sight before her. The change of his demeanor as it radiated something that brought fear into her lungs, as if she were inhaling black smoke rather than the crisp, early morning air. The shadows that were cast onto the left-hand sight of his face painted a canvas of darkened hues that made Anakin's features look both menacingly beautiful and piercingly grim. The usual golden tones of his curly hair looked dull as they wove across his forehead, waving in the wind. Then there were his eyes. Always oh so blue in all their clarity, now had a sickening yellow hue to them that brought the unrelenting tightness to bellow up her body. Small hands tightened over her belly as Padmé let the wave of discomfort pass. It was easy to push aside the sensation when what was occurring before her caused greater pain than what she knew to be labour contractions.

"Yes, Anakin. Yes. I…" she paused, averting her attention to the shifting clones a mere ten feet from them to the stirrings she heard from inside the Jedi Temple only to land back on Anakin. "I had to come. I had to make sure you were safe. That you were all right. That whatever I felt was just a nightmare like so many of the ones that you have and that I would be able to be in your arms before whatever I felt consumed me… Or you."

A part of him far in the crevices of his heart - which beat at an alarming rate with adrenaline - told him to feel pain for his wife before him. Her voice was trembling despite her attempts to make it strong. Its sweet tone tainted with uncertainty and breaks. His heart won over his brain for a split second and he was back in her vicinity. Hands caressing the soft features.

"What you felt was my power, my love. My new found powers that can save you - that can save us! Chancellor Palpatine has given me the title to display what the Jedi have kept me from doing for so long!" Anakin exclaimed. His voice jubilant along with the liveliness in his movements. "When the Jedi Masters attacked the Chancellor, it was brought to my attention that it has been them all along seeking power over the Senate, over the galaxy. The Chancellor knew that I saw the truth and has now given me strength to rule in a galaxy that can be trusted."

Padmé had begun to tremble midway through her husband exclamations. Was power truly what he thought this was? This darkness inside of him? It was what she felt, what she expected, and what she knew to be the dark side of the Force - and it was present in Anakin. Everything inside of her rang sirens and she immediately reached up and took hold of his neck, running her fingers through the curls spiraling at the nape of his neck.

"Ani… Come away with me. Help me raise our child away from this - away from the Senate, from the Chancellor." The woman halted her movements, allowing the discomfort in her lower body to pass before continuing. "From everything while we still can!"

A mask of confusion slid perfectly onto his sharp face and Padmé knew that her words were futile. The smile that was shining with the darkest of lights caused her eyes to water and she pulled desperately at his neck to bring him to her level.

"Don't you see? We don't have to run away anymore," Anakin told her. "I have brought peace to the Republic! I… I am more powerful than the Chancellor, I can overthrow him!"

Padmé let go then, staring up at him with blasphemy coursing through her. Her eyes were wide with fear and pain, and even the growing webbing of tightening strain in the lower arch of her stomach weren't enough to draw her from the revelation of what he was saying. His touch burned and he was only pouring salt into the wound with each word.

"And together you and I can rule the galaxy! Make things the way _we_ want them to be!"

In that moment, a flood of the most murderous regret filled Padmé. Everything stopped - her breathing, her movements, her heart… Oh, her heart. There was a black hole consuming her heart along with her lungs and every other vital organ that was meant to keep her going. Even as a distant, muffled pop rang through her system, the sensation of pressure leaving her body, it still couldn't bring her away from what Anakin had said. Tears had begun to form, falling in a heated blazed, scorching down her cheeks.

"An-Ani… Don't do this. Don't do this, you're a good person," she whispered, still trying to bring light into the essence of the soul that was leaving her.

Panic went through him at her words. Did she see him as a bad person? This was for her, for _them_! For their family, how could it possibly be of malice? His ears pricked at the sound of voices inclining behind him, but it wasn't enough to turn him away from Padmé's retreating form.

"That's why, Padmé. That's why! We can bring peace to the galaxies as they once were!" Anakin proclaimed, trying to make her see his reason. When her head began to shake, he noticed her eyes look down quickly before they closed and her face distorted, from what he didn't know. He was too busy trying to see why she couldn't understand what he was capable of doing now. _They surely can't be bad. They are to save her! To save her and the baby! Does she not want our child to live… For_ her _to live, and_ leave _me?_

Shouts echoed around them, a commingle of orders and battle cries. Anakin knew the sound like his own name, yet even the pursuing battle occurring behind him did nothing to divert him away from her. He couldn't leave her, not like this.

"Anakin.." her voice trembled, throat too tight to even allow her to breathe. It hurt her to speak, to see him... To see what he had become. "You're breaking my heart! You're going down a path I can't follow!"

Anakin felt his legs give out under him, but he forced himself to hone in on the violent energies around. The emotions being the only thing that could keep him stable after what she said. Darkness clouded his judgement, but at what cost? He trusted Padmé when nothing else in all the worlds could give him reason to trust. But he had trusted in the Jedi Council, and he had trusted the Chancellor. _But she has put trust in you,_ he heard the moral side of his conscious tell him.

The internal conflict was making him sick and the sounds of lightsabers igniting was doing nothing in quelling the nausea. Anakin couldn't function from the contorted thoughts and questions that were coming in tidal waves. Then, a memory came to mind. The time on the crashed _Endurance_ on Vanqor with Master Windu, the bridge collapsing on top of them after the helmet he had picked up was set with a bomb. It pained him to think of the man, having saved him from death, yet he couldn't do the same to him. Instead, he had inflicted it.. _No_ , Anakin's mind shouted, face contorting with pain. He ceased all thought on the subject, even though he felt the pressure of a demolished bridge on top of his chest still.

The words she had chosen had hit clear, and though that wasn't the intention, Padmé could still see it. In his eyes, the colours battled for dominance and she could hear him gasping for air as a hand went to his chest. Both of her hands had already placed themselves over her heart, trying to control the agony retching through it. The words had come out unfiltered, and they were true. Her heart was breaking and the sobs racked her body as she tried to regain something, anything inside. What she was given, though, made her keel over.

Padmé's shout brought Anakin from his darkened mind. This particular voice sending chills down his spine despite the shouts of pain and murder from afar. Her small body was bent over with both hands holding onto her stomach.

"No, no, no. Padmé!" Anakin shouted, closing the distance between them before she could fall to the floor. Arms held her, his droid arm pressing too tightly into her skin from the horror radiating from him. His nightmares infiltrated his mind and he began to tremble with the fear that this was it. "I will not lose you the way I lost my mother, Padmé!"

Sobs racked her body as the pain shot through her like lightning. Her hands tried to grasp onto his arms but her mind was holding her back, telling her to get away from him. Anakin brought her suffering, and Padmé could feel it worsening whatever condition her body was going into. "I… I can't," she whispered, a cloak of unconsciousness threatening to consume her as she finally let go and allowed her husband to hold her.

"Padmé, _no_!"


	4. IV - Order

**DISCLAIMER** : _I own nothing apart from my own work. I do not own Star Wars, LucasFilms, Disney, Anakin Skywalker - fml - and if this work of fiction is similar to any that have been done before, I apologise in advance. I can assure you, this was created from my mind with Star Wars as the basis and my own insanity commingled in._

 **Author's Note** : _Surprise! This chapter just flowed out of me so I couldn't wait to get it up. Can I just say that you guys are like a perfect buffet of everything I love? Thank you for the feedback so far and I hope you like this chapter. Don't forget to review! x_

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The pain that coursed through him made him suffer like nothing he had felt before. There was a difference between holding the body of his dead mother, knowing that nothing could be done to bring her to life and holding the body of his lover, the mother of his child - the keeper of his soul - and knowing full well that he now had what it took to save her - at least, he hoped.

Anakin immediately pushed away the ounce of doubt he had just felt, severing away the bindings that threatened to take hold of the dragon raging inside. He had to make himself steel to save her. As he placed his hand onto Padmé's face, he could feel the immediate restraint returning to the venomous beast inside. Her beauty fueled him with a lightness that illuminated every particle inside, turning the dragon into a sputtering creature at the hands of Padmé. Even the strongest of creatures would fall at her feet - Anakin being the first.

His breathing slowed as she mediated hers, but he did not relinquish her from his hold. As long as she was in his arms, his power would radiate around her and it was incapable of not being absorbed by whomever was in its presence. Sweat had already begun to drench the perfect spirals that covered her ears despite the cool breeze whipping around them. Anakin hooked the hair behind her ears, brushing her face clear of any obstructions as he stared down at her with piercing blue eyes.

"Stay with me, Padmé. I need you to breathe," he instructed, his voice taking on the voice he would use with Ahsoka when she had gotten herself trapped in the many assorted occurrences that would threaten her life - and his on occasion.

 _Ahsoka…_

The thought of his young padawan swept through him like a ghost seeking nostalgia and regret to bring it to life. She had everything it took to be a Jedi - everything. Ahsoka was clever and cunning, yet fierce and loyal, refusing to be brought down to a meager level without a fight. Ahsoka was everything he was, yet she resigned. And for what? For fear that she would hurt her family within the Jedi - that she would hurt her Master. The Dark Side of the Force had merely touched her and such extreme measures were taken for the ones she loved, to keep them safe. Another thing she had in common with her Master - the ferocity of her emotions.

 _But it wasn't the Dark Side she turned to. She turned away from it. And the Jedi didn't cast her out. They kept their doors open for her to return. It was her choosing, not theirs,_ the moral voice in the form of Padmé's voice, Obi-Wan's voice, the Jedi Council in unison all ringing out in his head causing the internal turmoil to sprout once more.

Padmé had her teeth clenched, the gritting sound heard loud and clear as she breathed heavily through the contraction overwhelming her. Anakin tightened his hold on his wife, a part of him - one that had conditioned itself to do such an action - told him to anchor himself to the small woman that held the immensity of his love. Having his arms embraced around her gave her a slight dosage of the strength that was quickly dissipating from her system. She looked up, stealing a glance at his face even though she was fearful of what she would see - and he sensed it adding onto the doubt gradually filling him about what he was to do to fulfill his operation for his Master. A smile broke as she gasped, though, and his doubt was quickly satiated with relief. Hands took hold of his neck, using Anakin to steady her as she forced him to look into her eyes.

"I'll stay with you if _you_ stay with me," she informed him in a wavering voice, relishing in the blue eyes gazing at her in an unrelinquishing tightness.

The two stared at each other, Padmé's hard brown eyes challenging his response with Anakin simply staring back in awe. Always with awe when it came to her, even though he knew he should be fighting his cause.

He could sense fear in her, and betrayal, but it was far less potent than it was before. Now, there was a drive in Padmé, one so strong, everything the Chancellor told him about his power and knowledge to stop death all seemed like a fairy tale because this woman couldn't die. Padmé was a fighter, and Anakin could only stare at her as he saw and sensed, once again, just how brave she was. What he felt was stronger than fear - it was hope.

The darkness was quickly evaporating from his system and the habitual restraint he held on himself was returning. The wave of tingling that had stemmed out of his skull upon Master Sidious requesting his loyalty to the Sith was fading, and so was the emanating power that his new ego as Darth Vader had.

"I'm holding onto you, how could I-" Anakin began to protest, ignoring his doubtful thoughts, but before he could continue with his sarcastic retort, he sensed a disturbance in the Force behind him and with skillful speed, took his lightsaber from his belt, ignited it as he threw his right arm backwards and deflected the chain of oncoming blasts. He turned around to finally see the battle pursuing at the entrance of the Temple, but more importantly, the trooper approaching him. Still with his arm around Padmé, he held his lightsaber before him. This trooper's armor was decorated with a familiar design. "Stand down, Appo. That is an order."

* * *

A silent buzzing vibration had come from a compartment concealed within every Commander and Captain's armor. Both CC-1119 and CT-7567, Commander Appo and Captain Rex, had both received the beacon from the secure comlink that was held in the concealed compartment. It was frequency locked to a channel reserved for only the commander-in-chief - Chancellor Palpatine. Darth Sidious. Once it was triggered, a holoscan appeared on the palm of the gauntlet displaying a hooded man, their true leader. " _Execute Order Sixty-Six_ ," he said. Each and every clone had been trained since before he had even awakened in the creche-school about Order 66 - it was what they were waiting for their entire lives. However, it was Commander Appo that immediately reacted to the Order, knowing full well that Darth Vader was no longer leading them in the Operation if the Chancellor had signaled them. Lord Vader had told them to follow his orders by instruction of Darth Sidious, and they obliged - but not now. Darth Vader was no longer in control.

It was Commander Appo standing before the husband and wife now, blaster raised and staring at the blue light radiating from the lightsaber the Jedi yielded. The clone looked hesitant, his fingers twitching. He already knew that he was outmatched, especially against Darth Vader; but he had to fulfill the Order. Every fiber in his body pulled him forward to pursue the Jedi. The Jedi were the enemies now.

Both Padmé and Anakin realized this but with Anakin's ability to sense preconceived actions, he brought his lightsaber back up just as another blasterfire was shot their way, the shot ricocheting towards the floor beside them.

"Appo, stand _down_!" Padmé shouted in an attempt to help her husband but was taken aback when his arms unraveled from hers only to have his form stand. Within the matter of nearly two seconds, he had swiped his saber upwards and cut off the clone's hands and all she could do was watch from the ground with wide eyes as he delved the saber into the man's chest. Not even a second thought was given, it was all impulse from Anakin.

"Something's wrong," was all Anakin said with melancholy, stating the obvious. His head was turned towards the hoard of troopers attempting their way into the Temple with blasterfire heard by the front line.

With trembling hands, Padmé brought the last blaster she had kept stowed away out, using both hands in an effort to keep it steady. Wary, tired eyes looked up at Anakin as he quickly unlatched his cloak, letting it fall to the floor.

"And you've barely allowed yourself this revelation right now?" she asked dryly.

As much as she tried, she couldn't raise herself from the floor, still too weak from her most recent contraction to gather the energy to fuel her muscles. She watched as Anakin ran towards the rows of Clone's advancing on the door, being held back by those inside and leaving her alone without even a snide remark to her reply.

Padmé lay there, exhaustion cloaked heavily on her as the sweat of exertion continued to pulse out of her. There was also confusion, and betrayal; discomfort, and heartbreak all looming darkly over her, as well. Even though he was lost in the masses of white-clad Clones by now, the sounds of their blasters seemingly coming from all around continued to drive the negative emotions deeper inside. He'd left her with her thoughts. Watching the onslaught of what she knew to be a massacre before her and near complete vulnerability. That factor tried to chip away at the hope she had, but even that couldn't diminish her faith.

A darker part of her began to whisper out in its icy breath. They icy air telling her to regard her guilt and shame of what she'd allowed her husband to succumb to. He hadn't stayed, and why should he, after the choice he had made. His eyes hadn't lied when they glowed that sinister colour and Padmé's breath hitched as she felt her soul break, too.

"No." Her eyes opened though she hadn't realized that they were clenched shut. "No," Padmé repeated, forcing her darkness out of her thoughts.

Whatever had swayed Anakin would not sway her. Whatever was inside him would find its way out, Padmé was sure of it.

The sound of lightsabers impacting objects, the reflected shots from the hail of blasterfire and the consistent sounds of orders and battle cries grew to a new height due to the aid of the easily reverberating exterior Temple walls. It was piercing - primal. As if it were the clash of Heaven and Hell fighting for dominance over nothing in particular. For what even was the fighting for? Even more so, why the Jedi? Surely an entire Legion of Clone Troopers wasn't necessary for enclosing the Jedi, unless…

Eyes widened in reaction to the sudden realisation. Was this all because of what Anakin had spoken of; the betrayal of the Jedi? Was this Chancellor Palpatine extending his revenge of the Jedi that made an attempt on his life? _But there are children in there_ , a voice screamed in Padmé's head and the faces of the many younglings and padawans she had met throughout the years filled her mind.

As if on cue, a boy, no more of eleven - by what she could perceive by his blade that was almost as long a he was tall - swooped out of the wide entrance doors and swung his weapon at the advancing clones.

"Don't hurt him!" Padmé shouted at the blockade of troops. Anakin was no where in sight, nor were any other Jedi. It was as if she were the only one there - she _was_ the only one there to protect the boy. The energy inside had recharged and she was on her feet, clutching her stomach and pointing her ELG-3A at the hoard of white-clad soldiers progressing onto the padawan. The exhilaration of her shots were short lived, however, when return shots were propelled her way. Padmé didn't cease, though. Instead, she continued to fire as raging tears fell from her eyes at the anger she felt towards the troops.

"He is a child!" she cried at them, trying her best to dodge their impetuous fire. It had to be without thought, surely it did because there was no other excuse as to why Anakin's troops would be firing at innocent children, whether they be Jedi or not. _And firing at me._ They had to know full well at what he was capable of especially after their years of fighting alongside their Jedi General. _And Anakin wouldn't kill younglings._ With this knowledge, it only reinstated her theory - the clones weren't clones anymore, they were thoughtless droids following orders from a higher cause.

Padmé made it to the pillar in which she had hidden herself before the Legion's arrival to the Temple, but even that couldn't do the woman justice. The bellowing of her cloak as it blew in the wind wasn't the only giveaway along with the onslaught of shots she was firing towards to whom she recognized as the enemy in the ordeal. Anakin could believe the Jedi were evil, or against the Republic, but the children inside the Temple, they were of innocence. If what he had told her was true, none of it mattered to the younglings.

Anakin would never hurt the younglings. There was too much good in him for that.

The familiar, and yet entirely foreign, sensation of another contraction began to weave it's way through her abdomen, tightening every part of her and causing her short stature to bend even smaller as Padmé tried to continue shooting while maintaining her steady fire. More tears slid without prevail down her already stained cheeks, the wind doing nothing to dry them as she clenched her teeth in agony at the spasms. Not even the gasps she was attempting to inhale were sufficing the sharpness she felt in every crevice of her body, her vision blackening at the sides. Alarm went off in her head telling her that what she felt wasn't normal; that it was too early - that the baby was in danger. From the years of conditioning herself to do it, Padmé immediately reached out to Anakin. Searching for him, pleading him wherever he was to come to her. He had always promised her that if she did so, he would always be there with her. A revelation of noticing he wasn't there then almost surfaced when a new found pain licked her skin.

With a torturous scream, the newly inflicted wound on her arm from a particle beam that had finally hit its target caused Padmé to drop her weapon and fall to the floor. Her body began to spasm, trying to absorb the pain that burned through her like a raging fire. The fire sprouted from her arm, but even worse, from her stomach. _Get up_ , a small voice instructed her repeatedly. _Keep fighting_ , it said. But at what cost? She knew she had to get inside or to get away from the Temple altogether. The baby was coming, there was no doubt of it now, and away from the carnage would be the safest her and the baby would be. Padmé recoiled at the thought knowing full well that she couldn't leave Anakin. Not like how he was, or he would be doomed.

But Padmé knew she was outmatched. Even the Jedis that had begun to emerge from the Temple were no match for the squad of clones heading her way.

There was a thunderous roar, like the most violent of thundering skies that was followed with the sounds of lightning striking. It snapped trees and solid buildings with nothing capable of escaping its wrath. Padmé's head lolled to the side weakly, preparing herself to at least stare down the troopers who would end her. But they were dropping, one by one. A darkness taking them out with such grace and ease that in her nearly unconscious state, the Senator would have sworn that it was a fallen angel on its road to redemption.

"Ani," Padmé whispered, but in a voice that only her mind could hear.

Anakin heard it though, and he let it course through him stronger than any power the Force - whether dark or light - could give him. The rage that was already present commingled perfectly with the overwhelming necessity to save Padmé. It was real, and it was coursing heavily in his blood.

* * *

After killing Appo, remorse filled him for taking out his comrade but Anakin couldn't stall. It was clear that his Legion had turned against him and had gone in search of Rex, trying to find his fellow Captain to make his men stand down, but it went without prevail. Only a handful of troopers, the ones that Anakin would call brothers if he were to be completely honest with himself - Rex included - had kept their allegiance to their former leader during the operation. Yes, they were clones conditioned to take out the Jedi when the time was right, but they were also human. Having to shout orders to his small legion under his lead as the Clones under the magnetic hold of Order 66 was enough in its own, because even Anakin had no clue as to which side he was on, let alone, what he should even do from then forth.

Was he to kill the Jedi as instructed? The ones that had gone against the Republic and their own morals to assassinate his Master? _He's not your Master,_ that ever present chorus of voices spoke into his mind, causing him to bellow in frustration. His saber was lifted to deflect the onslaught of blasterfire before it easily took out four troopers. The Hero with No Fear allowed this emotion to fuel him as he sliced through the troopers he had grown close to, massacring every single one in his wake. By his actions against the soldiers, his own troopers followed lead and took out any of their brothers advancing on the Jedi. Though his mind was not clear, his actions showed which side he truly was on.

And then he had felt it.

The split second of realising that he had left his wife on the sidelines made his body react faster than it did his mind. Blue eyes saw the padawans emerging, refusing to obey Master Shaak Ti and the remaining Jedi Masters within the temple after witnessing the death of Gate Master Jurokk. Anakin's face had contorted in confusion, torn between the sides of the Force as he continued to annihilate any Clone that dare corrupt in his path. Shaak Ti was to be his first victim of the slaughter, but now, the Force told him he'd have to rely on her.

He was sent there to slay the Jedi, for they had betrayed him. They had sought to kill the only person that could help him save Padmé. " _Anakin!"_

The sweat drenched, golden head whipped into the direction of the pillars. Anakin already knew she was there, he was trying his best to get to her. All the while, insult after insult was said like adding coals to an already raging fire. _How could you leave her alone… What are you doing here… You have no chance… They are all against you now._

Exerting all of his energy into the soles of his feet, the Jedi pushed off the floor and jumped over the mass of clones, swiping to and fro as he did and taking more out, adding to his count. The troopers running towards Padmé were not given another step. The last thing they felt was the emitter of the lightsaber penetrate the hardness of their suits as the blue plasma chewed through their insides. Disgust filled him at seeing that they were advancing on Padmé - _harming_ Padmé. Weren't they there to help him protect her?

" _That is my_ wife!" he roared at them, but they couldn't hear him. They were all dead and continued to die as he finally made it to her as she fell over, clutching her belly before her hands went limp.


	5. V - Betrayal

**DISCLAIMER** : _I own nothing apart from my own work. I do not own Star Wars, LucasFilms, Disney, Anakin Skywalker - fml - and if this work of fiction is similar to any that have been done before, I apologise in advance. I can assure you, this was created from my mind with Star Wars as the basis and my own insanity commingled in._

 **Author's Note** : _I would just like to say three things before you get on to the chapter. 1) God, Padme goes unconscious a lot, what a babe. 2) Thank you all for the feedback TTM has gotten. It gives me confidence for the upcoming chapters I'm writing for you all and I thank you. 3) I'd like to give a little shoutout to five individuals I've seen in the reviews since the first chapter._ **Jedimasterroyal** _\- First review HAY. You're welcome for not being a one shot. Annnd.. Anakin: "I'm doing this for you. To protect you." Padme: "Cool motive. Still murder."_ **Kate Skywalker** _\- Thank you for loving my characterisation and inner turmoil skills. Sometimes I like to channel that Anakin angst aka me during every second of my life. You angel. x_ **StarWarsFan1138** _\- I always look forward to your reviews; they're just so vibrant! I love you. x_ **sw1fan** _\- Thank you for the constant feedback, A. Hoping those chills keep multiplying, nugget!_ **Lord Lelouch** _\- Fucking Obi-Wan, man, I agree on that. Love seeing your in depth analysis on the chapters, glad to see your having fun reading and the process of thoughts your mind goes through._ **angie** _\- Gah, really happy to see your eagerness every update, nugget. It's so cute and it always makes me smile. x_

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"Padmé, Padmé!"

His panicked words made her stir and he could sense the resolve of consciousness return to her exhausted form. The once broad shoulders curled in as the attached body made of disciplined strength visibly relaxed, though it was still tense. Despite Padmé being awake, her eyes remained closed. The only signifying action that gave away that she was even the slightest bit attentive was the way she was clutching onto the lowest part of her curved belly.

"It's time to wake up, Padmé," Anakin coaxed, blue eyes inspecting the damage done to her shoulder. A scar would grace the now charred skin, but no internal damage was inflicted much to his relief - which was scarce at this point.

He took her in, allowing her defeated form to latch on to every midichlorian in his body. It ignited both the light and the dark sides of the Force in him; luminescent skies enlightening the molten rivers below. The darker side of Anakin, the one that was deteriorating at a slow and gradual pace from his body, found this pale, stricken, and unconscious part of Padmé to be absolutely enticing. It made him love her even more. However, the part of Anakin lambent with the light side of the Force rang panic. It shined down on the necessity to protect her; to bring her back into balance and to inflict justice on every single thing that had put her in the state she was in. That had put her and _their_ child in that state.

Ignoring the chaos ensuing behind him, Anakin pressed his hand, of muscle, ligament and bone onto the hardness concealing his unborn child.

* * *

The first time he had felt the baby kick was more unexpected than any moment of his life, and he was a man weathered by perilous battle after perilous battle. Anakin had been awoken again, the nightmare of Padmé's death deterring all ounces of sanity he had been able to muster over the years of having her in his life building it up. Sweat had already presented itself in a thick sheen over his body and his hand was shaking - his metal hand whirring silently with the impulses to quake, but not enough to actually emit to asking fully. Blue eyes veered out into the darkness of the bedroom. Only a soft glow pressed out into the darkness, the only light in the room coming from the artificial Coruscant nightlife behind the dimmers in which he tried his best to avert his attention to without prevail. The nightmare was still clawing at him, at every single pore as the beast tried to root itself externally as it already had internally.

With the Force guiding him subconsciously, Anakin found his nude body hovering over Padmé's. His left hand placed oh so delicately onto the soft skin of her torso and the already bulbous stomach she was curled into. Fingertips traced deftly over the mound, feeling the bumps of her flesh rise in his wake. Then Anakin had placed the entirety of his hand as lightly, yet as firmly, onto the lower part of her belly so that he could feel as though he were helping to take the strain that he had inflicted into her.

Such doubt and regret at allowing their careless behaviour to come to this - a baby that would exploit their love in the best, while also the worst, of ways. How much he already loved their child, knowing that it was both of them that had created it. The baby was her essence entwined with his and Anakin knew with every ounce of him that it would hold the strength of her love with the ferocity of his. With her beauty, and grace, but nothing of his, he hoped. He didn't want his child to hold the turmoil he held. The impatience, the confusion and the regrets. Never would he want that.

Then he felt it.

It was a soft nudge at first, as if the unborn infant were testing the area it had just impacted. Even Anakin wasn't sure if he had felt the baby or if Padmé had simply moved in her sleep. But it was the second kick the exploded Anakin into a beaming concoction of mesmerisation and pride. Both hands took hold of her belly, despite his droidian hand being incapable of touch and his mind running on pure impulse. Anakin saw with brilliance now, the glowing light of the city being enough for him. He didn't even need it, though, because he was guided with the way of the Force. The life inside of her, it was strong with it. Very strong. It was exuberant, and it was his. It was theirs. Their baby.

Padmé hadn't woken, surprisingly, to his sudden behaviour. The moment had been entirely his to cherish and he would never reveal such a memory to anyone solely because it was only his to keep. With his wife, Anakin always felt tethered to her in a sense that his destiny had been entwined with hers. Whatever lives they were to live had been altered dramatically when they guided the parts of them willing to be led - and the fibres that were well forced - all to be woven into a single, solitary destiny that was joined by love. The purest of loves - if it could be diminished to such a title - and now, it had created the purest love - again, if it could even be called that. To Anakin, what was between him and Padmé couldn't be defined by something so minuscule as the word love. It was the size of a universe and stronger than every organism in it. Their child was more grand than all of existence. Their child was their destinies as one.

And every night, every time he woke to its mother's fatal end that played whenever he closed his eyes, Anakin would connect himself with the purity of his own and whisper to it, promise to it, that nothing would ever happen to either of them. The promise made and only strengthening by the passing days.

* * *

Leia always kicked when she sensed his touch, but in that moment, Anakin felt nothing. He knew it was a girl because he simply knew. Leia was the name he had given her, had constantly spoken in his sleep and would whisper to Padmé. Leia with brown, wide eyes and hair that could be woven into glorious creations like her mother; and, oh, the fire she would have. But now, there wasn't even the slightest of putters, not even a forceful punch that made him fear more for Padmé's internal well being than anything else - always apologising for the baby inheriting his strength - but there was nothing.

"Padmé, get up. We have to go," Anakin said hastily. Whatever Force source he normally felt wasn't as strong as it usually was and it continued to add onto the dread already building in him like static. A groan was given in reply, but it was faint. "Padmé, _please_!"

Padmé opened her eyes, but the vibrancy was gone as if her brown hues had the soul drained from them. They were dying eyes. Utter exhaustion filled her features and Anakin took back every thought about finding her in such a state, seeing her even more beautiful than she had ever been because it was all a lie. The moral side of his brain, the part conditioned by the Jedi, told him that it was the Dark Side of the Force bringing out that side of him. But Anakin couldn't find the need to help it be felt. It filled him with fear, with hate. Those were emotions that he couldn't simply brush aside. It only continued to spark the burning ashes to ignite and the volcano to erupt at the flashbacks of his nightmare - her death.

 _No,_ he thought to himself. Instructed himself. _I have the power to save her._

The disruption in the Force behind him caused Anakin to whip backwards, releasing the blue plasma of his saber and igniting the crystals inside to elongate the light. Within seconds, he had retracted his hand from its placement on Padmé, had extended his crouched legs to stand, and had deflected thirteen shots thrown his way and successfully took out two clones. Anakin's whole body hummed to the tune of his blue-hot blade; becoming one with his weapon - with his Force.

Another stream of troopers saw his advancements and he moved with his instrument to orchestrate a fluid consonance on killing every single one of them. He was quicker than they were, sharper than every single one of their movements. The restrictions of the dragon within were incinerated, allowing the beast to come alive once more and burn everything in its path. It's wings took control of his arms and the fire ignited every optic nerve and retinal artery to see everything, to _sense_ it all. Anakin was the most alive he had ever been in his life as the fury raged through him. Even the mechanical fingers tightened until the grip of his lightsaber creaked in protest, but he did not disengage. His gaze did fall down to it though, feeling the pulsating beat of the instrument and wanting to see it for himself. And he froze.

Gold eyes stared mildly at the dark residue, the sight whirling through Anakin's mind making no sense to him but he looked back to Padmé nevertheless. She had fallen over, both hands still cupping her belly but had lost the strength of their hold. He used the Force to push back the remaining troopers before rushing to her side, cradling her fragile head with his adrenaline shaking hands, both human and mechanical.

Padmé flinched at the quaking hold but could not summon the strength to plead it's halting. Instead, she was preparing for the next round of her internal torment which she felt as it shot icicles into her veins. Before it happened though, she fluttered her eyes open, hoping to use Anakin has a means of strength - the power emanating from him more extraordinary than ever before. But tears came as instantaneously as her next contraction.

Instead of the light of love in his eyes, she saw only the reflections of his amber hatred.

There may still be good in Anakin, but in that moment, Padmé felt as though he were lost. She felt as though she had lost, too. But what she didn't know was that her thoughts were tainted; influenced by the very darkness that was casting its shadow out into her vulnerable mind without even intending to.

All she could feel was pain. Utter agony branching its way upwards and no matter how many sharp inhales she took or the attempts of clearing the fogginess of her mind to count and calm herself as the Emdee had taught her, none of it mattered when there was only the feral yellow staring back at her. Gasps turned to sobs and hope turned to heartache. The spasms subsided, as did her consciousness, but before slipping into the fitful darkness once more, Padmé took hold of Anakin's arm, her breathing coming out jaggedly and her voice barely higher than a whisper.

"S… Stay… Stay."

It had taken her several tries and even by the final enunciation of the word, it was still impossible for nearly anyone to decipher - but Anakin wasn't just anyone. The word alone brought a new form of agony, one of his heart filled with despair and complete perplexity into his already overflowing system. A convulsion of unendurable pain passed over his body, tears burning his eyes and fingers prickling with invisible needles. Distant concussions bellowed down the archways but it did nothing to draw the man away from the hand that had gone limp while reaching out to him. Just as his lightsaber was, and just as his own gloved hand was, the dark residue now covered the majority of the small, delicate hand. Blood was on Padmé's hand, the very one that had been holding the area in which his Leia was to be safe in but no longer was.

And oh, how the dragon roared.

* * *

The gradual inclination from his low moan to vehement howls was quick.

 _"This is Coruscant, Annie, not Tatooine. Women don't die in childbirth on Coruscant—not even the twilighters in the downlevels..."_

But this wasn't Coruscant anymore. This was to be his domain - his empire. The Legion was to be his to continue leading, to be his fist that would reinstate his new laws; the power that was now instilled in him as Darth Vader. That was given to him by Chancellor Palpatine. Yet, the Chancellor had turned his troops against him. The Chancellor had the power to save Padmé, but was now turning his power against them both. The very person that had told him he need not hide from him; that he could show his true thoughts and soul and not the one conditioned by the Jedi way. Palpatine was the very man who had told him to _let go_ and he had - and now he had fallen, plummeted into the very darkness he had sworn to never fall completely into for Anakin knew it was already in him. It always had been no matter how hard he tried to conceal it, it was always there. And he had allowed someone to take him right to the icy top of it and plant him with the idea that he ruled it. And now his kingdom was crumpling.

In the far off reaches of the galaxy, Anakin could feel the torment of others in the Force. One by one, impact after impact, the Jedi fell. Order Sixty-Six was active. But he wasn't a Jedi, he shouldn't be delving into that sight of the Force. So when he reached out to the Sith, to the glacial winds that awoke his very soul, Anakin wasn't met by the new, yet entirely familiar, sensation but rather the immediate awareness of the piercing chill the place gave him. He did not belong with the light or the dark. He did not belong to anything.

They were all against him.

The tall, slim but broad-shouldered man burst into a fury like no other. Each trooper that approached the darkness was no match for the Force-wielder. His strength was too much for even himself, though no one knew - not even Anakin. The fountain of the blue-white plasma burned into chests, swiping them halfway. Clones scrambled over the severed arms, legs, and various other body parts of their fallen brethren only to meet the same fate at the hands of the same person. Cries for backup were heard but never finished as a combination of Anakin Skywalker and Darth Vader joined in Force to take them down with his lightsaber. The power of the Jedi and the fury of the Sith.

Vader stood above a soldier with both of his arms missing, shivering in pain with a malicious smile on the man standing over him. He fed half of his saber into the hollow between the trooper's collarbone then swiped upwards to take out the clone beside him, helmet clad head falling loudly to the floor. Another swift flip of his body brought the blade down on another unfortunate and the flick of his wrist swooped the plasma and slashed it through the white armor that held no resolve against the lightning crystal fueling the lightsaber. The bodies piled, the darkness overwhelming Vader's mind with joy at his defeated enemies and tears springing from the pain Anakin felt at the sight of his fallen legion.

The Sith had come to the Jedi Temple, but it was fighting alongside the Jedi. But to Anakin, it was his own revenge upon them all. How dare they turn against him. How dare they defile his power. How dare they attempt to assassinate the only man that cared enough to let his true self soar only for that man to turn against him. How dare they kill his friends. How dare they hurt Pa-

"Padmé."

His lips peeled away from his teeth as the frenzy within burst outwards and pushed any approaching reinforcements to fly backwards. The corpses on the ground made no hindrance on Anakin as he stepped on them without remorse to get back to his beloved. Again he had been drawn into the necessity to fulfill his vengeance on the others and forgetting what was most important to him. _Why are you doing this to me!_ he shouted at the dragon laughing at him.

He had lost so much already, he wasn't going to lose her, too. He would _not_ lose her and he would not let anyone - Jedi, clone, Sith, droid - take her from him.

* * *

She was sobbing. Her emotional control all but shattered as her whole body shook and not even Anakin's strong arms could halt their shaking. But, oh, how Padmé was grateful that he had returned. This time, she kept her eyes closed, allowing the tears that felt as though they would never stop to continue their onslaught as she fought her own battle of internal demise.

The intensity of his wrath stunned her, leaving her mind walking out of the haze it had been in from exhaustion and grief to stand in awe at what her husband was capable of. For in that moment, though the feral nature of the Dark Side was obviously present, Padmé saw as he fought with such grace, with such lightness that all she could do was hold onto the determination Anakin always held and hope that it would guide him to do what was right. Not what the Force or the Jedi wanted - or whatever else he felt he had to obey - it was what felt right in _him_ that she hoped for him to follow.

Weak hands had tried to caress the extension of her stomach that held their baby inside, proving to be a task she couldn't even handle along with trying to muster herself into shelter. Padmé knew something was terribly wrong, both with herself and her unborn child, and she didn't need her bloodstained hands to tell her so. It was always a necessity to be strong no matter how weathered she felt inside and now, there was no resolve. She was now the most vulnerable she had ever been.

New tears started, but they didn't matter then. She knew she'd never have enough tears to signify the torment she was in. Instead, Padmé grabbed on, with what little strength she had left, to Anakin's sweat sheened face.

"Ani… S- Something… 's… Wrong," she said in a voice strained by fear.

Eyes that looked like sunflowers bursting through a clear sky deliberated the crumpled sight of the brave senator before him. Always so passionate, brave and strong, it was now that Padmé truly looked as so many believed her to be - vulnerable. But Anakin knew better and quickly, he smiled, shining his teeth at her in a genuine display of the playful nature she was so well acquainted with in an attempt to keep her sedated.

"Obviously. You're missing out on all the fun," Anakin said, his tone lacking the usual snark he'd put into his retorts.

A halfhearted attempt at a laugh was given in reply, quickly transitioning into a hiss as another contraction compressed her will to stay sane and the baby's necessity to come into the world.

"SHAAK TI!" Anakin bellowed, weaving his hand of durosteel to wrap behind Padmé's back and using his extra droidian strength in the solitary instrument attached to him to lift her.

Though his shout was surely unable to even make a dent in the battle cries of both clone troopers and Jedi alike, the cogency of his Force could easily exude its signal to every Jedi in the Force. Even the baby inside of her, incapable of even understanding what the usage of the Force could mean gave a little jolt in return to its father's cry.

Anakin stayed where he was, holding Padmé behind the pillar with their bodies facing the Coruscant night. With all of its grime and all of its secrets; the Jedi Temple belonged to the Coruscant night. No one knew of what was occurring nor would anyone act upon it to save themselves from the carnage within. Only what continued to pursue in the candescent lighting before the Temple would go on.

Cries that the Legion had pushed through to the interior of the Temple were heard in a distant echo. Somewhere in his mind, Anakin was put on high alert, but another part of him felt satisfaction. It wasn't until the lean, tall body of the Togrutan appeared, deflecting the blasterfire she brought with her did the man bring himself out of the mind tainted with another shadow. Deeper, darker, formless and impenetrable, but with a pool of light that if he set one touch of his skin upon it, it would cleanse him.

"Anakin," red lips spoke breathlessly yet calmly - a trait only Master Ti could achieve. With one quick look at Padmé, though, concern flooded the Jedi's face. She did not need to ask, nor was she going to check the nature of the Force inside her fellow Knight. The well being of the Senator was what mattered. "Quick, inside to the Halls of Healing."

The dark clad man did not answer, choosing to focus his full attention on swooping his wife up into his arms where he held her so close to his chest that he could feel the rapid flurry of her heart beat against him. Palms were faced outwards, Force bursting any trooper he could cast the energy at to clear the pathway to the front doors. From behind, Anakin sensed a squad of soldiers approaching and aiming to fire and quickly spiraled his footsteps to allow the Master Jedi to deflect the shots. In an array of swift movements and gracious arc formation to her own blue-white blade, the enemy was down.

Padmé wasn't heavy in the slightest, though by the appearance of Anakin, one would think she was. However, the overexertion apparent on his face was not from the weight of his wife or the quick movements needed to keep the three of them from harm's way; no. It was the restraint he was using to not take out the Master Jedi guiding him through the bloodshed. _It could be so simple,_ the dragon within hissed, using its venomous breath to intoxicate his mind.

The soft hand placed on his chest brought Anakin from the enticing sneers from the beast. Brown eyes stared up at him, but they weren't _looking_ at him. Instead, they stared blankly into space, with galaxies made of fear and webbed with planets of agony.

"Padmé, turn your attention to me," he instructed, ducking the shot of a plasma beam and raising himself. They were no more than five meters from the door. "Turn to me, Padmé. I won't let _anything_ happen to you, _nothing_ , okay?"

There was no reply as her body went limp, her hand falling onto the curve of her belly and the anguish already settling into his actions. With the summoning of the Force, Anakin was at the entrance of the Jedi Temple before Master Ti could arrive but made it towards the Jedi Medical Centre.

"Anakin, I shall take her. We need you fi-"

" _I am not leaving her!_ " he roared; the wrath of Vader in his voice with the pleading blue eyes and stature of Anakin.

"Her safety will be guaranteed if the Temple is not infiltrated. That is an order, Anakin Skywalker," she stated. Her tone was clipped, precise and soft all at the same time. "Hand her to me and keep your ground, young Knight. She will be in great care."

His jaw clenched and the Jedi Master felt the Dark Side of the Force immensely in the Jedi Knight. Immediately then, Shaak Ti knew that it was Anakin Skywalker that had set the currents of the Force to be so unbalanced earlier. Yet now, as he looked down at the Senator of Naboo with such tenderness - and pain - the understanding of his grief was felt in her own soul.

"You have my word."

A sob would have broken through, if he didn't have the strength to control himself. Instead, Anakin groaned and kissed Padmé's forehead, filling his lips with the very promise to keep her safe before placing her unconscious body into the arms of the tall Master, turning around immediately to defend the retreating figures as Shaak Ti made haste to get the suffering Senator to help and doing her best to ignore the display of affection from the young Jedi Knight.

Nothing in his whole life would ever give him the strength to let Padmé go than in that moment. But it was now clear to whose side Anakin fought for and it was the side that would keep his lover safe for she was his side, his destiny.

How he could allow himself to be deluded into another's, Anakin didn't know. He simply allowed the confusion to burrow into his muscles as he began his own massacre on those against him.


	6. VI - Love

**DISCLAIMER** : _I own nothing apart from my own work. I do not own Star Wars, LucasFilms, Disney, Anakin Skywalker - fml - and if this work of fiction is similar to any that have been done before, I apologise in advance. I can assure you, this was created from my mind with Star Wars as the basis and my own insanity commingled in._

 **Author's Note** : _Really though, thank you all for the feedback. It truly means everything and keeps me thriving to get this story out to you all. Let me know what you think about this chapter, I'll be off trying to get my sanity back! I'd also like to apologize for how long it took me to get this out. I feel just so freaking terrible about it and just, yes. I'm sorry. Also, just a heads up, I finally was able to get a job so postings won't be as constant but this will be the only thing that can keep be grounded so I will continue to write when I can! Don't forget to review or PM me if you'd like! x_

* * *

Love.

It is what defines a person; sculpts them into the paths of what is right and what is wrong. There are loves that are the epitome of peace; working in unity to produce a fluidity that only the lovers alone would be able to orchestrate. There are loves that are built from hate, stemming from the depths of sorrow and mutiny that gives it a raging fire that never ceases. Then, there are loves made of power. The foundation strong with roots branching into every direction and stemming upwards with the greatest of tenacity. No matter what the love is made of, each lover combines them self to the other to become a force to be reckoned with when they are one.

Love.

It is what defines a person; sculpts them into the paths of what is right and what is wrong. It has its conflicts, its deceptions. Its lies and its heartaches. Love made of peace can be murdered under a current. Love built from hate can burn in its molten fury. And love of power, well, even the most powerful of beings have their downfalls. To maintain the lightness of their heart when love is gone or to succumb to the darkness of the shattered remains, it is but the lover that decides. Let it create or let it destroy.

* * *

In the Force, Anakin felt the destruction. It was primal, instinctive. The operation being executed throughout the galaxy was one of conditioned thoughts. Knowledge wasn't necessary amongst the clones, only the necessity to kill and to kill swiftly. The Jedi, the Senate, and anyone who favoured the Republic were all a threat, no matter who was against them - a child, an adult - none of it mattered.

So naturally in return, Anakin couldn't help but find the dropping corpses dying at his hand to be of the purest satisfaction.

Every other second, though, whether he was mid-leap and preparing to attack or already with his lightsaber impaling another, he felt a blow to his soul. To the life source of the Force within the inner workings of every midichlorian inside of him as another, whom he was attached to by that living orgasm, had their life severed. Their lives of constant justice, wisdom, and peace-making all but stolen from them in an unfair death. They were all placed with pre-programmed clones that would act immediately once they were told to execute Order 66. Each Jedi made as General to command their own legion and in return for their leadership, they were inevitably made to be overthrown. His comrades and teachers, brothers and sisters - his friends and family. All dying under the most brutal of currents taking them under, never to arise again.

Their death only allowed more of the darkness to creep over the light in him, and resting in the dark during the whole scene was a shadow with feral yellow eyes.

 _The Jedi are the enemy_! Darth Vader yelled in a furious rage. It shook the man to his core but he allowed his movements to continue on in their precision to kill those attacking him - instinct over mind as the movement of the current of clones continued around him, threatening to take him under. And how Vader revolted as the man fighting for dominance of his mind ignored the darker half of it.

Besides, how could they be the enemy when they were slain by those they trusted?

 _That makes you a Jedi_ , Vader growled in disgust, and Anakin help but allow it to emerge from clenched teeth. His blade flashed and another trooper was impaled.

Before Anakin eyes, the many clones of the 501st Legion fell; their armour made of the most delicate of materials when matched against his lightsaber as it was easily sliced away in precise skill. The currents of hot plasma entwined together, its rays illuminating the organs in which they were residing in for the moment's grace before they were cauterizing the impacted area and cutting it in half, leaving the organs in blackness. Yet they still kept coming to meet their doom - and he kept attacking, and striking.

There were oh so many with not enough sabers to get them all but oh, how he made do.

The hate that fueled the Force-sensitive man was felt in the inflictions placed on his enemies. Like a hunter's instinct to successfully capture, murder, and consume its prey, it was the only rule Anakin was living by in that moment. The necessity to kill all of those against him was a necessity of passion and complete infatuation with the blood drawn in the wake of his wrath. With each fallen corpse, the yearning to step on the body, to feel the death in his heel and have it wave up his skeleton like a shock wave, it was paralyzing. It paralyzed his true self to do the actions of the one in love for their destruction. With its menacing smile piercing the eyes of the clones, the troopers had no chance against Anakin.

Anakin was off and running, off and leaping. His blade spinning left and right in a blur with every stab taking a soldier down, writhing to the ground. Every slash putting another severed limb of a clone on the ground.

The sizzling blade shone in a clean blue light, flickering so fast that it became a deflector shield in appearance and reflected the particle beams directly back at those shooting them. His mere presence took apart the clones in his path leaving them charred and smoothly dismembered with the reigning thought of how they had turned against him at the hand of someone who had supposedly been on his side - been his master.

Anakin Skywalker was no longer coherent to what was happening apart from simply knowing to kill them all. Anakin alone was a weapon. The greatest weapon either side could have, and much to the Jedi's luck - though they did not believe in it - the Hero With No Fear was on their side. Not to him, though. He was still fighting for himself and for Padmé's protection. If the Jedi were to turn on him, they would be perceived as much a threat as the clones.

He leaped into the air, flicking his wrist in an elegant manner that sliced the head of an intricately decorated clone trooper's helmet. In the far off reaches of the moral part of his mind, Anakin would have noticed the design. Connecting it to-

"General Skywalker, we are being ousted!" Rex shouted beside Anakin.

Blue eyes averted around, gradually coming to understand the situation in whole instead of just at the end of his lightsaber.

During the execution of Order Sixty-Six on Coruscant, far too many Jedi had fallen, but not as many as there should have been. _Could have been_ , Anakin corrected himself, beating down the darkness with as much remorse as he was giving the trooper that had stepped in front of his path. He looked back towards his captain and a genuine piece of Anakin shined through.

"Have a little faith, Rex," he grunted back, hissing out a laugh as another soldier went down.

"I'll lose faith when you die, General," the Captain answered with his noted sarcasm.

If Anakin were anything, he was his determination and his determination _always_ loved to prove another wrong.

"You underestimate my power, Rex," he answered with a grin then sprung gracefully over a pile of corpses to pursue another squad.

Anakin wove himself through the bodies of three armour-clad troopers, dicing the white cases through the chest, arm, and thighs of the unfortunate and sending them to their fatalities. "That won't be happening," he muttered to himself with pure conviction, adding on to his previous statement as he plunged the emitter of the lightsaber into the soft flesh beneath the another clone's jaw.

The love for these men and the hatred for them, they were as much at war in his mind as they were around him. The part of him, the Jedi side, was telling him to stop the carnage. To reason, and to withhold all attack and advancement of his Legion. They were being controlled by another entity and they had no control over the protocols embedded into their minds for as long as that entity had it triggered in. And, most importantly, they were his men, after all. Together, they had defeated more battles than any other squadron, platoon, or legion in the clone army. Together, they had become one countless times to destroy the hatred inflicted by the Separatists. Over the course of the years the Clone Wars had been active, they weren't even clones to Anakin - they were his brothers. They had been around him so much that they had even taken on some of his personality traits and fighting style, infiltrating it with their own. They had fought and died for him and he would do the same because their love for each other stemmed out of the pure necessity to defeat the Separatist cause.

He was torn from his calloused mind when an alarm went off in his body. He hadn't even heard the sound externally, but the pain internally was agonising.

A guttural scream was pushed through clenched teeth once his body had registered he'd been shot. Anakin found that the rest of his body threatened to begin shaking, but he pushed through the pain of the blast that had entered his right, lower abdomen and had escaped cleanly through his back. His knees buckled beneath him, but he refused to allow himself to fall fully to the floor, regaining some strength with the sheer force to take out whomever had hurt him. And he did.

Anakin's wrath exploded like the very rivers and volcanoes of Mustafar and he wouldn't have it any other way. His steady pace left behind a trail of smoking slices of limbs and their owners meeting their body parts on the already covered floor. How he had let the Force not guide him to dodge the blast as he so fluidly did before, he couldn't answer; but what he could make known was how his attention was diverting. His technique became more brutal and messy than it normally was, the saber-wielder wasn't just using Form V anymore. He was pure aggression and rage.

The surge of energy and strength coursing through him was stronger than any vengeance or peace could give him. No longer was he empty, but full of the power, the life, and every aspect of the Force was in him. Anakin _was_ the Force.

A few more minutes of time passed along with the lives of the clones gradually diminishing against the Jedi Temple. Skilled padawans, young Jedi Knights, and those who had been in the complex either resting between missions or those injured, all had come to fight the war over dominance of their home. Though no one could meet the kill count that the Hero With no Fear was increasing every other second, they were doing a great justice on overthrowing the threat.

Anakin appeared to be in control with his immaculate swordsmanship and grace. It was as if he were in a dance of death and he lead the show. But to those who saw into his eyes, you would see the droplets of sweat creeping down the skin in exertion and the discomfort in his dark eyes. The lean body was on edge and a darkness loomed over it, different than the Dark Side of the Force that was sporadically hazing his mind and limbs in its dark fog. It wasn't as strong as it was before, the new essence easily taking dominance over all of him. As he fought, Anakin's thoughts gradually became of crystalline substance as his morals sharpened and cut off any form that threatened to dismount it from its place, but along with the clearness came his connection to what truly kept him whole.

It wasn't the feeling of the many deaths of the Jedis occurring in the Force - the most recent of them being Aayla Secura, in which Anakin's blue eyes watered slightly at the loss. He found her as a strong soul, one he looked up to and in return, he delved the pulsating blue plasma savagely into the neck of an oncoming trooper. It also wasn't of the constant reminders of betrayal in every death he inflicted, the adrenaline coming from the hate he felt towards them and the necessity to use this passion to take them out. Though both could be contributing factors, they weren't the ultimate basis of it all.

The root of his consciousness came from a woman placed in the southwest corner of the Jedi Temple; and though her pain could not be heard by those around him, they shot through Anakin like lightning.

The darkness was not of the death of the Jedi race or the massacre he was exploding upon the 501st Legion. The darkness was of the agonizing dread that Padmé felt - that he felt.

* * *

Running. He knew he was running. The exertion of his movements brought shots of electricity to burrow their way up the soles of his feet and towards the base of his spine. It held there for only a second before the gathered energy burst into his chest, then into his throat, and lastly, into his skull. It was a powerful surge, one not for the faint of heart, but Anakin was not that. He was far from it.

Yet, in that moment, he was.

Anakin's body was far from unfit. His muscles fortified and disciplined; every organ in perfect working order and his health was near perfect, as well, if it already weren't that. With overexertion being more of a common occurrence for him than any other Jedi, he didn't obtain the title of Hero With No Fear by sitting around, and it showed in his undeniable strength.

Yet, in that moment, he wasn't.

His heart felt like it would unravel from the unsteadiness of its beat at any second. Even trying to channel this discomfort into the currents of the Force went without prevail as Anakin brought his mechanical hand to his chest, mentally seeing himself rip the organ out as it would give him more strength to keep going.

Everything screamed Padmé, from the pillars shooting up into the vast ceilings to the bodies running past him as they went to offer themselves to the battle pursuing behind him. The battle in which he had left when he knew he shouldn't have. But the very thing that was guiding his legs blindly through the halls of the Jedi Temple was also encasing his mind in its hold. Like a fist that was clenching itself tighter and tighter for the punch, all Anakin could do was focus himself on the small crevices of the palm he was left for a leeway.

So much had happened since the last time he had walked down the halls he had once called home. Now that he thought of it,though, the Jedi Temple had never been home. How could it? It housed the very creatures that had corrupted the minds of so many in the journey to condition whomever was in its path to think as they did. They were said to be peace-holders, but instead, sought violence to relinquish the violence around. How could they do such an atrocity? Disobeying the very fabrications of what the Jedi Order should be? It only brought the question of whether or not they were actual Jedi to begin with, or mere impostors attempting to be what the Jedi were and should be. As Anakin believed he was.

 _No_ , he told himself, eyes clenching shut in refusal to see what he was doing to himself despite it being an internal battle.

Anakin had fallen to the Dark Side of the Force. One with anger, fear, and lust. Though he possessed those emotions nearly every second of his life, they could not overthrow the good in him. The Jedi were his friends, his family. They had saved his life and given him the chance to learn his powers and cultivate them. And without the Jedi, he would have never met Padmé on that fateful day.

It did not matter if he found the Jedi Temple to be his home or those who resided in it to be it either, so long as he had Padmé, she was his home - his sanction. And it was crumbling.

The pulsating disturbance of the Force sent a wave of frenzy through his system and before Anakin could counteract it, his stomach was rejecting the acidic residue that had coated his empty stomach walls. He knew it was Padmé. Knew that something was terribly wrong and that the living Force within her was beckoning for him to be by her side. No battle, whether internal or external, could keep him away from that and after spitting to get the last of the acid out of his mouth, Anakin took off in full frontal endurance to get to the Halls of Healing.

The dragon flew beside him, blowing a trail of fire beside his booted feet as he maneuvered blindly through the Temple. He was but a blur, but his presence was enough to illuminate the grim complex and also burn everyone in the process. He was one with the Force, the epitome of it, with his strides enhanced by the power and fire.

How could a woman so powerful fall into the crutches of the enemy? Allowing herself to be harmed by them and allow her child to fall in danger alongside her? Padmé held an explosion of intelligence within her that radiated out to everyone even in her sleep, so how could she allow this to happen? How could she lose him to this foe?

A growl escalated to a shout as Anakin stopped. The furnace within his heart was burning him whole and it hurt. But the furnace had a body, and the furnace had a name. A body of ivory silk and a name of every dream and fantasy since the day he was born - Padmé. He could feel her thoughts, her betrayal and it lacerated even the most sane part of his mind.

 _He_ was the enemy. She had allowed herself to be harmed by _him_ and had allowed her child to be in danger against _him_. She had allowed _him_ to fool her. And she had lost _him_.

A new found surge of betrayal incarcerated Anakin's body into a strange paralysis that trapped all of the remaining light within his body, left for the darkness to feed off of. Whatever it was she was thinking was not true. It couldn't be! He had made a vow to both himself and to her that he would _never_ allow anything to hurt her. Everything he had done was to ensure that he would not lose Padmé the way he had lost his mother and the only way to do so was to become more powerful than any Jedi had ever dreamed of. He was capable of it! Every Master had told him and he was already aware of it in himself!

Palpatine had promised that when he was anointed as his apprentice and with the rise of Darth Vader, he would be unstoppable. Anakin was weak, ruled by fear. Vader was power and could only grow stronger for fear had no power over him. He had destroyed his fear. Yet, now, here was Darth Vader and Anakin, coinciding with one another as they raced to the epitome of their souls.

So, was Vader truly stronger than Anakin, or were they one in the same? For they both loved more than any other could love in the past, present, or ever in the future. And if one could love, that made them human. And if evil could love, that only meant that they were human, too. Anakin was human, and so was Vader - they were one.

Anakin stopped them, a sudden revelation hitting him. He was calm. There was no pain or suffering, merely a serenity in the Force that had an over current of… Happiness? There were tears falling from his eyes and his mechanical hand instinctively went upwards to swipe them away, but he stopped himself and left them where they were.

Since the first day he had seen her intricately braided head, woven with such perfection that only Padmé was capable of obtaining, he knew that she was the one. He didn't even need to see her face because her presence alone was enough to tell him that she was it, she was everything his future would hold and more. She would be his life, and she would be his death. Every feat he obtained would be for her because action without cause is futile. Everything he did and would do, since meeting her on Tatooine, a hell amongst the galaxy, the angelic form Padmé Amidala cast down upon him gave him a strength that matched every life force and sun to ever exist.

She alone could sway the minds of millions and he alone could do the same. Together, nothing would stand a chance against them. Not the Jedi nor the Sith, nor the Senate or the Chancellor himself. And the smile that shown on Anakin Skywalker's face was enough for even the dragon to evaporate along with every doubt he ever had.

Then he ran.

* * *

The cry was a stubborn one, brought on by the purposeful rough handling to awaken the newborn and clear its lungs. The one emitting such a sound was protesting but only in the necessity to do so to stop harsh behaviour it wasn't used to. Already, it was defying what was done to it showing it was assertively against this injustice when all it wanted was to return to the warmth. It gave the healers holding it the benefit of its already strong lungs, and letting everyone else in the premises know, as well.

The cry was indeed stubborn, only lasting no more than a second but the sound echoing throughout the room easily. Hearing the sound brought Anakin to burst even faster through the vacant hall and even the sight of the room through the observation windows looking down into the room that held what he was lead to couldn't diminish his spirit. From that point forward, it was pure instinct leading Anakin to be with the woman who held his existence in her own.

" _It's a girl."_

"Leia," they said simultaneously. One voice of deep resonance, the name said with overwhelming emotion; the other voice of collapsed weakness, feeble and meek.

Automatic doors pressed shut behind the Jedi's entering figure, muffling the sounds of the distant battle that was having no effect on the affair occurring in the Halls' main operating theatre before him. The two young padawans that had been placed to guard the room came rushing in behind Anakin, protesting his entry but were easily ignored. Various eyes looked upwards from inside the room but he ignored them as well.

Their questions for Anakin Skywalker's presence in the operating, made delivery, room were suffocating the already hectic air. _What was the Jedi Knight doing here? Why wasn't he stationed in the place where he was needed most - outside fighting off the threat?_ _Why was Anakin Skywalker here?_

Shaak Tii watched the young Jedi with wary eyes. Earlier, when she was relocating the Senator to a place more suitable for a mother to give birth, the Master could not deny the gradual revelation of the interaction she had shared with the knight. She did not need to search into the Force to know the truth of the relationship Senator Amidala and Anakin Skywalker shared, it was written purely shown in his eyes. In his eyes, in his lips, in the hold he had on the unconscious woman. In the passion that radiated off in waves… Everything was there, and now it was only fortified with his sudden attendance. There was also the factor that the infant she held safely in her arms inherited the same eyes as its father's, as well as a fair set of hair, for it surely did not have the brown of its mother's.

The orchestra of medical instruments crept into adagio with its composer settling after the long and climatic middle. But there was only silence in Anakin's ears. There was nothing else in the room to him and it was as if the world had gone dim except for a path illuminated for him that led to Padmé and Leia. Just a few seconds prior, the pressure in his chest was enough to make him collapse and now, he knew he never would or could he. The crushing fist encasing his heart was a welcomed friend, a celebrated one. It was love. It was everything that had ever been loved and ever would be and it was in the form of the two most beautiful angels he had ever-

Blue eyes stared mildly at the infant on the opposite side of Padmé's flushed face, held by the brilliantly orange arms of the Togrutan Jedi Master. The baby looked so tiny in Shaak Tii's arms, frail even. But it wasn't the size of the baby that mattered to Anakin. Though he hadn't thought of it that moment, he already knew that he'd love it whether it were short like its mother or tall like him. What had stopped the inner workings of his brain at the sight of the boy was exactly that - it was a boy. All thoughts, all actions - nothing connected.

It was a fussy baby, he had to give it that. Even in the always calming aura that Shaak Tii seemed to constantly uphold could not settle the newborn, nor could the trembling hand of his mother that was placed haphazardly on his bare chest. With his shiny, fair hair and skin blotched with red bursts of its inner fury of being ripped from its mother.

"Luke," the Togrutan offered soothingly to the new father. Master Tii knew, and it was plain as a Tatooine double-sunned day.

" _Luke_?" Anakin choked in an overly strained whisper.

Suddenly, everything made sense. Padmé had told him that she thought it was a boy, yet he always argued it was a girl - his Leia. Had he imagined the voice informing them it was a girl? Obviously the crying boy before him wasn't of the female gender. Though Anakin could have sworn he'd heard them say there was a girl-

As if on cue, Barriss Offee returned with a pouting baby, head covered fully in dark hair that spiraled into every which way but the newborn refused to utter another sound. She only showed the distaste in her face. Luke had all but been forgotten as Anakin basked in the sight of his daughter. This is who he saw in his dreams. This was the child with her mother's eyes and father's ferocity.

"Leia…" Her name was a gasp of captivation and his vision swam, but Anakin made no attempt to wipe his eyes clear of the dreams falling down in the form of tears. "Oh, Leia."

Without even asking permission, Anakin took his daughter from Barriss' caress, earning a dumbfounded expression in return that he had done so. Nevertheless, she withheld any form of protest and quickly pattered backwards with her head lowered. All eyes were still on the Jedi Knight, though, and no one saw the fluttering eyelids from below watching what they could as Padmé continued to keep a hand on her son, giving her heart to him and soothing him altogether.

Never had she seen a smile so bright on her husband's face in the time she had known him. The light that illuminated the vicinity around him was like watching an angel descend from heaven. " _Not even an angel,"_ her mind countered. " _A God._ " If only she could go back to those many years ago, when she was first asked if she were an angel by a weathered, yet innocent little boy. She would have surely answered, "Yes, for I could not bear to not join my God."

By now, the various minds in the room had pieced together the sight in front of them, and their expressions showed it. Shaak Tii, however, knew better than to seek answers in confusion and conspiracy. Such a range of emotions wasn't of the Jedi way nor suitable for the state of the fragile beings in the room at the moment.

"Leia…" Padmé whispered, bringing Anakin's adoring eyes to look heavily onto her. Their crystalline hues shimmering with the tears in them.

"Twins?" he questioned with a disbelieving astonishment.

A powerful presence infiltrated the Force around them and Anakin had to look away to grudgingly give his attention to the approaching blue figure.

"Anakin Skywalker, I have to ask you to leave. This is not the time nor place and whatever it is that must be informed, say it now or-"

"No."

Bewildered blue eyes stared at the golden-haired man with pure bafflement. Master Che also did not neglect to note that he hadn't called her Master nor did it seem as though his refusal would falter.

"Senator Amidala needs to begin her healing trance, Anakin, you are delaying her healing and even more-so you are not allowed into the personal affairs of the Senator, nor anyone else, Jedi Knight," Che pressed, refusing to give in.

His jaw began to clench and blood began to pool into his mouth from biting down on the tender skin of his cheek. The dragon was awake and allowing the fuel within itself to bubble and boil until a blue flame licked the surface. With Leia still in his firm hold, Anakin walked towards the Twi'lek at a menacing pace. The fire grew and its presence was visible as in sparked off his body.

"You are not my _Master_ , Vokara, nor is anyone. If I choose to be in the presence of this occasion, I will do so without anyone's permission but my own," growled a voice that should have been Anakin's. "And if I'm not mistaken, the only one delaying the healing of _Senator_ Amidala is yourself in which I will gladly ensue a form of encouragement if you do not _heal_ her."

The Master Jedi stared at him incredulously, trying to channel her anger and confusion into the Force rather than allow it to fuel her next words. Anakin could sense this and the dragon within sneered at the weakness of the Jedi. _So weak, so useless,_ the dragon hissed and the smile on Anakin's face was that of the dragon. Her threats had no power over him, nor did anyone else's. The babies were alive, _Padmé_ was alive. His _family_ was alive. Nothing could stop him now.

" _Anakin…"_ He spoke too soon.

All presence of the malicious creature within disintegrated at the words along with the remnants of his soul. His blue eyes were cast Padmé's way, at her delirious movements that only paralyzed her even more. Then, the sight of the room finally stunted Anakin because he recognized it - how could he not?

The white hospital gown. Her sweat sheen forehead with a tired scowl and dying, closed eyes. Flushed skin with blood sinking back into her body leaving a corpse. The alien table with her head idling as she tried to stay conscious but was losing to the darkness.

The nightmare.

"Padmé, no," Anakin instructed her, not even realizing the tightening hold he had on Leia. Noticing this, Barriss Offee ignored the risk of his wrath and quickly scooped the newborn from the Jedi's constricting embrace and stood away from the impending dark energy that was suffocating the air.

"Anakin, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry... Anakin, please, I _love_ you..."

Anakin was moving, though he was hardly aware of his actions. Knees hit the floor without the grace that a Jedi naturally held or a Sith fluidity brought with pain and his hands clawed at the air in open fists. Over and over again, his mind shouted and screamed in agony, but no form of catharsis was shown. The only answer that could be given was the helpless shake to his head because in that moment, his furnace heart was going out.

This was his nightmare becoming his reality, and there was nothing he could do. Just as his mother before her, he was going to lost Padmé and there was nothing he could do.

" _All things die, Anakin Skywalker. Even stars burn out_ ," the dragon had told him. The dragon had warned him, had become him and shown him that it would come true, but he refused to believe it. He couldn't, how could he?

He loved her.

"Padmé, please," Anakin tried to say, and heard his voice speak for him, but it wasn't his voice. Horror had squeezed his voice down to a whisper. Small, and fragile, and very young. As though he were transferred back to his time on Tatooine as a child being taken from his mother, knowing he couldn't bring her with him. As though he were transferred back to the Tusken camp, surrounded by those he had slain in his moment of rage and holding his mother's dead body, knowing he could never bring her back.

Love is a powerful thing to those who use it, but to those that need it for their own strength have nothing when it is gone. Anakin watched as the life in Padmé, his life, slowly faded away.

"Please, my love. _Please_ , don't leave me," he pleaded. His voice was as full of emotion as his entirety was. Hands grabbed hold of the face he so loved, a coldness already setting in the skin.

Suddenly, her wondrous brown eyes cleared, and she knew him. She traced over his features, from the golden spiral of his hair to the brilliancy of his rose-tinted lips. From the eyes she had always found amenity in, with a blue that made her think of home and the many possibilities life could give. And to the mouth that held the most resonate of voices that could only belong to that of an angel. That spoke her name. That spoke the words of love no other person could accumulate words for. Her love - her _life_.

"There… Is still good in you," Padmé gasped, her delicate hand pulling away slightly then reached for nothing in particular. "I know there is… Still.."

Her voice faded into an empty sigh and the hand that had gone forward to reach for her lover's touch had fallen. Her exhausted body sagged back against the pillow. Within seconds, the conductor of the orchestra led the near dozen scanners into the piece's finale - scanners and machines buzzing and shrieking with conflicting alarm tones that brought droids and healers in to reply. But they were all propelled backwards in a fury stronger than the exhaust of the galaxy's largest ship's engines.

The Force was strong in Anakin, both in the Light and in the Dark, and in that moment, both sides coincided with the anguish he felt. The energy burst from him like a dying star, sending everything in his wake backwards in its frenzy. Machines crunched as the power met the energy coursing through the instruments and bodies hit the floor heavily as they held no match against the Chosen One.

And all that could be said was his soul screaming in reply to its lover's death.

"NO!"


	7. VII - Soul

**DISCLAIMER** : _I own nothing apart from my own work. I do not own Star Wars, LucasFilms, Disney, Anakin Skywalker - fml - and if this work of fiction is similar to any that have been done before, I apologise in advance. I can assure you, this was created from my mind with Star Wars as the basis and my own insanity commingled in._

 **Author's Note** : _Thank you all so much for the immense feedback! I've hit 100 responses AND 50 followers, and it's growing, and just. Thank you. Thank you for all the reviews, the follows and the favourites and I promise I'll keep on getting this out while I can. Now, here's another thank you for your feedback, my nuggets. Remember, this is a fanfic created from my mind, so this is how_ **I** _would have liked canon to be._

 _With that said, enjoy. Also, warning,_ **mature content in this chapter** _. It's descriptive because I wanted to truly portray how I see them when their emotional level is commingled with their physical selves. ENJOY! I know I did... xx_

* * *

It was the strongest of pulls, one of great magnitude. As if a circular current was tethered from one chest cavity to the other. Illuminated in the colours of the most excellent f vibrancy. The colours of guardian blue, adegan silver, and Arctic blue all entwined and attached, painting the fluid current. They were attached to each other and for all they knew, their bodies could have jumped into hyperspace, traveling solely in that channel of light and even then they wouldn't get to each other fast enough. Within each other's embrace, their souls merged as one in a euphoric bond.

It was always hard, seeing him after the prolonged absence of his presence. The asymmetrical contours of his facial features with the growing length of golden spirals that darkened with each passing year. His hair always shining in the way that she wasn't quite sure if it were blonde or brunette, becoming mesmerised to find an answer. For all Padmé knew, it was every colour that merged into a single one and in only the way that Anakin Skywalker could pull it off.

And, oh, how he shone.

With the receding sun casting its rays throughout the land causing the lively world of Naboo to be filled with a vibrant contrast to its already intense colours, it only magnified the arriving star ship as it prepared its landing on the private hanger she was standing on. While the sun magnified the world around, it was the star ship that illuminated the smile on Padmé Amidala as she watched with paralyzing anticipation for a view of the ship's flyer.

Whether it were days, months, or even mere hours, it was time away from Anakin that interlocked every passing moment to create one long and agonizing second apart from him. Of course, Padmé would count every day away from him subconsciously, torturing herself even more, but a promise was made in its wake - a promise to ensure that she would make up the time lost as he would pay her with his love in return.

When it came to the island of Varykino, the Naberrie family could only classify the villa as a lake retreat, a place of refuge. With its clear waters and soft sand that pulled the lake's tide closer and farther to it; the elegant architecture of the villa itself and the fluster of trees surrounding the island sporadically was enough to give the Naberries their privacy while allowing them to maintain the serenity of the Naboo Lake Country around. It was Varykino that, in the most recent of years, the junior of the Naberrie sisters found the retreat as a secluded sanctuary rather than a simple getaway. No one would know of her time spent with Anakin there, and they were allowed to express their emotions freely and in the open without fear of the world finding out the truth of their matrimony and love.

It was Varykino was where they could truly let their souls roam free. It was in Varykino that Padmé would wait for her husband when informed to and would wholeheartedly radiate her soul to him in unsolicited ease. It was in Varykino that Padmé now saw her husband leap gracefully from the cockpit of his star ship, something she knew he did more than eating during his service in the Clone Wars, and something that she couldn't help but allow another wave of pride to rush through her.

They were in each other's arms before either could even process that they were finally together at last. It would be some time before they would realise they were allowed to see each other, smell each other and simply be with each other after so long.

His smell infiltrated her system, taking hold of her ligaments and controlling them. She couldn't help but mold her lips into the powerful ecstasy that was her lover's kiss; her soul elongating itself to enter his own body and weld their souls as one once more. However much Padmé felt like she were drowning in his wake, she gasped in everything Anakin had to offer, fully obliging to her impediment doom.

Anakin, on the other hand, could not relinquish the flames scorching his insides with her touch. Though there were layers of clothing between the two, what with his dark Jedi robes and her typical Varykino attire of clothing that surely could place her in a fairy tale - something that drove him absolutely wild in the brain for how could she continue to find ways to prove that she surely was too pure to be in such an atrocious galaxy - her touch was still fire, licking and sparking each crevice her soft fingertips touched. Her touch, so warm compared to the ever-present coldness that surrounded him from the war, from space - from their time apart.

He finished kissing his beloved, grudgingly pulling away from her gentle caress only to impulsively press his lips to the smooth surface of her forehead. Blue eyes stared at her with crystalline perfection, absorbing every new line around her wondrous brown eyes and whatever new feature she had to give that would inhabit his dreams in future nights. There were no imperfections to Padmé, even the things she did that would anger him from time to time somehow made him revel in her more. He accepted her for all she was, physically and mentally. She was beauty, and grace. Illumination and brilliancy that would surpass every star in the galaxies.

"My love," Anakin sighed in contentment.

Padmé felt her soul smile at that. She felt as if the entire galaxy were smiling at those two words. Every living organism or entity simply stopped what they were doing to allow themselves three seconds of irrevocable bliss to bloom inside. That's how strong Anakin Skywalker's love was - the entire galaxy could feel it. But, there was only one person who could understand it; truly grasp the extent of combined emotions that could never be simplified to a single word like love. Because just as Padmé was the only one to possess the complete knowledge of his love, Anakin was the sole master of her own passion.

But just as quickly as the revelation that came with how much she loved him - as it did every time she laid eyes on him - it quickly disintegrated into an acidic pool of sorrow at the sight of his face. What once was the golden canvas of flawless art was now corrupted with scars of battle that sliced through some of his dominating features. On the hollow of his left cheek, once defining his high cheekbones with their shadows, now had two lines no longer than her nails. Padmé traced over them with sheer delicacy though the wounds had all but healed already. Slowly, she brought her fingers to hover over the rest of his face, afraid to touch it but allowing herself the privilege to touch it nevertheless in small, gentle pricks that were sporadically placed.

This was a face that had seen too much - that had endured too much.

It was the right eye, though, once clear of any obstructions that could take away the piercing blue that captivated his face, now held a perfect, pink line that went down in a clean swipe. A perfect display of what had been inflicted on him. Tears threatened to fall down her blushed cheeks, and they won the fight easily.

 _How could anyone do this to you? How? How could anyone have the audacity to harm you in such a way; to harm the face of my love?_

Padmé didn't know that she had spoken the words out loud, her mind consumed by the confusion of looking at his new battle scars. This display of her tender affection caused Anakin to weave the metallic fingers of his right hand through the coils of her hair, bringing her tear struck face into the firmness of his chest. He could not physically feel the softness of her hair - at least, not to the extent that he would like - but the texture had been engraved in his head causing him to twist her hair and feel it nevertheless. With every inhale of her hair, Anakin became intoxicated once more by her presence; letting her take hold of his system and make him her prisoner without so much of a sharp gasp in protest.

"All that matters is that I am safe in your arms once more, Padmé," he consoled her with a soothing drone to his deep voice.

Brown eyes remained clenched shut, refusing to reopen and see the scars once more in fear that they would make her legs collapse from beneath her. It disgusted her fervently that anyone would dare harm the man that held her soul. Would inflict such pain as to leave a mark that would remain for the remainder of his life. She burrowed her face deeper, taking in his smell of smoke, chemicals, and other aromas that came with relinquishing oneself to ongoing warfare. The way she could feel his heart, beating rapidly at a steady pace that would seem irregular to anyone else but far beyond normalcy for someone with as much caliber as Anakin Skywalker.

"For too long you have been away, Ani," Padmé said against his chest; her voice feeble but stern. "I don't know how much more of this war I can take."

A sad chuckle reverberated out of Anakin causing her delicate face to bounce in rhythm to the laughter. She couldn't help but laugh despite the moroseness of its nature for the sound alone was like angels singing into her ears.

"Just sit back and relax, my love. I'll take it all from here," he quipped, pressing a strong kiss atop her head.

Brown coils wavered down the exposed ivory skin of Padmé's back, falling away from her face as she lifted it away from the confines of his chest to look into her eyes. Another wave of gratitude swept through her, but now, it was tainted only slightly by the regret she felt seeing his scars. Now, the regret was minuscule compared to the sense of pride that glowed deep in her heart at the sight of them. She knew to Anakin, there would be pride as well, though there would also be failure felt. Pride in the aspect that the scars were a medal of sort, something to display his involvement in the cleansing of corruption within the galaxy in the form of the Separatists. It was the other present emotion she knew resided in him that she feared. Padmé always tried to make him never feel it, for how could one with so many feats feel such an emotion? Failure was a constant thought in Anakin, and she knew it. He would confess, in the sound of whispers and trusting confidence, regrets of things he should have done and could have done better. But these scars weren't of failure, no matter how hard he thought of them as such.

Yes, there were scars that interrupted the glory of his face, but he was alive. Whatever had happened to cause the inflictions, Anakin had survived it. _He was alive_.

Her thumb gently traced over the healed wound, relishing in the new found viewpoint she had of it. It was not pride, nor failure, that the scars represented. It was a sign of survival - that he had survived whatever it was that had disrupted the flow of his life and would display it for the world to see.

With overwhelming thickness, her voice said the words that held only the surface of the passion she felt for the man holding her with such a gentleness that she was sure she would break in the fragile grip. "I love you."

His lips were on hers and his hands traveled down the contours of her lightly clothed body. There was a firmness to his touch, as if Anakin wanted to feel every ridge of protruding bones, folds that her soft skin made, and every single bump that rose in the wake of his finger like a language only he could decipher with his touch. His mechno-hand - though of durosteel encased in the leather glove he always wore to elude others into thinking it was a human hand - acted like that of a human hand. Beneath the material, the metal ligaments whirred with excitement, reacting as such from the intensity that his thoughts were asking his entire body to react in.

Long legs bent at the knees so that he could reach her face with more ease than he would at his looming height, but in a single thought's grace, hands cupped the perfect roundness just where her thighs met the firm body part of hers that he loved so much and brought her to wrap her legs around the hardness of his waist. It was easier like this, with his arms wrapped around her lean body and her own encasing his head in their hold. Anakin never felt more vulnerable, yet protected, just as Padmé felt so weak, yet so powerful.

Going against all training and instructions from Obi-Wan to not use the way of the Force in a leisure, every-day manner, Anakin used the way of the Force to guide him as he walked them steadily inside the villa.

His hand of flesh and ligament ventured down the caverns of her back. The canyon between the sharpness of her shoulder blades being one of his favourite places to rest his hands upon. The valley of her spine running smoothly with its perfectly placed ridges creating the most fluid of waves that he traced with his calloused fingers. It ignited an array of reactions, both from her skin as it rose in ecstasy at his touch and from her nerves that would spasm causing her body to jolt closer to his.

She could feel his heartbeat crashing against his chest as her own heart answered its lover's calls. At one point, the workings of the muscle that kept them alive became synchronized. Matching each other's pace as if they were working together in constant collision with the bones that formed a cage around them only to break free and become one beating life source. It wasn't like that's how it already was, but to the lovers, if everything could be magnified and taken to the next level, it had to be done. No matter what.

Anakin opened his eyes, the warm glow of the lighting in the interior rooms caused his eyelids to droop but his lips to liven nonetheless. The warmth of both the light and the room's colour scheme brought a radiance to Padmé's ivory skin so that it looked as if she, herself, were glowing. Like an angel that he was returning to heaven; graced with the duty of ensuring her safety and well being only to be paid with her love in return. He hadn't realized just how tightly he was holding onto her - his passion guiding his body while the Force had been guiding his mind - Anakin could feel the bruises he was forming and for some odd reason, he didn't care. And by the reaction he was receiving from her, he surely wasn't alone in that aspect.

It was beautiful in the sense of how lethal it was. Each kiss, each touch only delved his lightsaber deeper into her heart, illuminating it while burning it until it withered away in the cool wind blowing around them. Attempting to clear away the moisture that had exerted out of them but without avail. And, oh, how his saber only continued to excavate what was left of her already exploding heart.

Ravenous kisses began to tear away at her lips, bruising the perfection of their rose hue while her own movements made his lips swell in return. His eyes had all but closed by then as his feet trudged them along, Anakin wanting nothing more in that moment than to drop to the floor and take her right then and there. Yet, at the same time, his heart wanted nothing more than to treat her with such tenderness, with all of the passion his essence could cultivate, that she would melt completely into his touch only to have him follow blindly behind.

Brown eyes opened wide as Padmé felt Anakin's embrace tighten as what she was sure of another surge of his passion for her waved through him - just as she was quite positive that he could feel her own reaction to him every other second if not every second. The lighting in the room elongated the shadows that were cast from his asymmetrical features, making them look dark in places, but the highlights where the Nabooan sunset hit the skin made the tanned skin look even more gold. He was so beautiful, and even then, beautiful was a word too weak to describe Anakin Skywalker. In brutal honesty, no word or phrase could ever portray Anakin Skywalker in the way that it should nor could any thought coherently sum him up. Even the photos available on the HoloNet, or a miniature, blue figure depicted in a holoscan could never illustrate him in justice - nothing could explain Anakin Skywalker, yet everything could.

Padmé pulled away from Anakin then; the immediate protest in his features bringing forth a youthful giggle from deep in her chest, close to her heart. She took hold of his neck then moved her body in a request for him to let her go, which he obliged regrettably. Soft hands trailed down the length of his torso from where they had held his neck, igniting a flame within his chest, stomach, and lower abdomen as they traveled downwards. A cold was left when they were lifted, but the fire remained in his blue eyes as they watched the smirk play onto her swollen lips - lips that he had molded into that specific shape - and the marks he had left on the ivory skin of her back as she turned towards the entrance of the bedroom he had led them into.

The weight of his gaze on her back made her flesh spark. A slow, fierce blush heated its way up her body from an area far too private for anyone to know other than that of her husband, and Padmé knew Anakin was well aware of the sensation he put her under. She was sure that if she turned around right then, she would see a look of smug satisfaction cloaked over his face which would only bring her to roll her eyes with a smile attached and for him to act on impulse from then forth.

Slowly, she pressed the dimmer on the wall pad that controlled the functions of the room, turning off every light in their vicinity; allowing the setting Naboo sun to light their way for the rest of the time it had in the sky.

Though it had been months since they had been in each other's presence, Padmé felt far from self-conscious in front of the only person that she had ever truly felt comfort in during all the years of her life. Anakin saw her for who she was, just as she tried her best to show him that it was more than acceptable on her behalf that he display to her the same light as she presented herself to him - as if her soul were on display.

She was so in love, and there was nothing she could do about it. The only thing that could be done - and something that would continue to pursue even if she tried with all of the self-control she knew was strong within her - was to allow her love to flourish and flow. It didn't matter that his hair was longer. That there were now scars upon his face and he had achieved more in the battles he fought than speeches she could ever hope to give in the Senate. Anakin was still that boy of innocence to her that she had met so long ago and she would always be that young queen that he mistook for an angel. That's how it always would be - just the two of them always discovering each other despite already being found.

Just as she had taken her time to make her way across the room away from him, Padmé followed the same pace as she turned around to face Anakin. The hues cast from the receding sunlight painted a wonder not to the interior of the room, nor the nature outside that seemed to burst into the room by that point, but to man staring at her with complete and utter adoration. Blue eyes were wide, yet slanted, as if they were smiling. Lips were pulled upwards, easy to miss by anyone else, but the most simple of giveaways to Padmé that Anakin was truly happy. It wasn't a smile that was wide and baring all of his teeth, nor was it a smile that made the delicate skin gather at the corner of his eyes. The smile upon his face was small in nature, but it signified tranquility and content. It signified a peace of mind that not even meditation could achieve, and the fact that only she could provoke it alone was enough to bring tears to her eyes. Anakin deserved to always find this state of serenity and to be able to help him find it was enough for Padmé's spirit to keep trying to show him just how incredible he truly was.

He was cocky, at times narcissistic, and knew just exactly what he was capable of - but he didn't _truly know_ it.

With his newfound deep bronze locks, gleaming near silver in some sections with contrasting shadowed undertones, Padmé was mesmerised by the sight before her. If she was not mistaken, there appeared to be a halo that outlined the erratic placement of the hair that wound away from his face. Many had dubbed him the Golden Boy if not the Hero With No Fear, and there was no other time than in that moment that she could see why. Though Anakin was far from a boy, the entire radiancy of the fire tones that shone - burgundy for the shadows, a deep red for the sharp lines, and a golden rose for the highlights - her Anakin was that of pure brilliancy. He could call her an angel, but nothing compared to the God-like presence that paralyzed her advancements. And, oh, how she would praise him for all the justice he had obtained. Drop down to her knees right before him and bow for eternity.

In the seconds it took Padmé to recover the control she had all but lost over her mind, Anakin watched her with sheer ecstasy - and pride. Gone were the artificial lighting and in place were the sun's illumination. Something so natural to clarify the beauty before him. _His_ beauty. _His_ love. _His_ wife. _He_ had earned her, and time and time again, he was reminded just how grateful the Force had been to him by giving her to him.

It is far too often the power of a smile, a kind word, a touch, a compassionate ear, an honest compliment, or the smallest act of caring are underestimated. No matter what the action is, they all have the potential to turn a life around. Just like the endless cycle of being reborn and of death, Anakin was reminded of the fateful day that had brought Padmé into his life, and since that day, nothing in his life was without her influence.

The way her wide, brown eyes were hazed over with a thickness as full as the voice she spoke to him about her love for him, to her lips quivering, threatening to smile but holding back to make her explode from the happiness - it was intoxicating. And with the dying sunlight glinting off every sparkling surface within the room, beaming a glitter of rainbows that made her look like the angel he swore she was every time he saw her, he fell more under her spell. Even the skin that was exposed beneath the revealing retreat clothing she always dawned at Varykino shone a shade brighter. Padmé was the definition of perfection.

By the time she had recovered, her delicate hands reached behind her back. Thimble fingers traced over the extravagant stones that held together the intricate beading that wove around her neck, elongating the sharpness of her collarbone. Padmé kept her distance from Anakin, watching him with excogitating eyes, memorising every reaction to her own actions.

A twitch of the finger. The sudden rise of his chest. His full, bottom lip sucked between his white teeth, but only for a second before he tried composing himself… Which Anakin never mastered.

The material fell in a wave of a billowing current. Tones of cyan and chartreuse, silver and diamond, falling away from her petite body like the ocean revealing its most precious pearl in offering. His breath hitched, his mind completely overwhelmed and incapable of doing something that was meant to keep him alive. For all he cared, he would be able to die a happy man at the sight of such an entity before him. And he wanted to possess her, body and soul.

Padmé lifted her chin, setting her shoulders and encasing the slight chill of the tiled floors to muffle the burning flush peaking at every crevice in her body. She led her footsteps towards him, closing the distance though she had never felt closer to him. The power he gave her, instilled in her with just the bewitching gaze of his heavy, blue eyes - it was dangerous. " _How dangerous_ ," she would often realise when thinking of her husband. " _I finally have something truly worth losing_."

She had her causes she fought for. A planet to look after, along with her people. And the well-being of the galaxy - but nothing compared to Anakin Skywalker. Padmé would die for many things, but if it meant not having another day with Anakin, it wasn't worth dying for.

Upon the bodies reconnecting with one another in distance, a gloved hand was raised to the softness of a cheek ablaze with the most brilliant of pastel scarlets. It was the hand of the most advanced of machinery, working in unison to achieve the impulsive instinct to touch the face of a woman he was still quite sure wasn't real. When the woman leaned into his touch, Anakin brought his fingers, the ones still capable of the gift of true sensory and touch, and began to trace the satin skin with a delicacy he was not even aware he was capable of.

His touch brought sparks to prick the depths of every pore causing the hills between them to rise like mountains in the fingers' wake. Padmé was in awe and wanted to feel his all. The coarse leather, though familiar in all its sense, masked what was beneath it - something she praised, not shamed as Anakin did. Fingers were brought up to work on the latches that held his glove in place, concealing the golden durosteel that made up his right forearm and hand. The motors within stopped moving, as did his venturing ligaments that had been scoping her skin, but she continued. Once the metal was unlatched, the restriction released, Padmé pulled her face away just far enough to allow the glove to come free before placing her cheek back into the caress of the cold metal. She knew to Anakin, this act made him feel complete vulnerability for revealing something he loathed, and to harness this emotion, she threw the glove onto the floor while kissing the palm of his golden hand.

The sole action alone was enough to calm Anakin to no means. Padmé had always been the type of person to prove to him that the most gentle of actions could tame even the most wild of beasts, and he was the example. Always irrational, working on impulse. As long as an objective was done, it did not matter what had to be done to achieve it – it would be done. Pride was a dominating factor in his soul, always wanting to prove himself not as weak, to prove that he would never fall back or resort to the person he was on Tatooine – a slave. Anakin would never be that, ever. Yet, in a way, he was. He would always be a slave to Padmé's doings. Whatever he did would immediately be influenced by the thought of whether or not she would approve, if she would benefit from it.

She was his master, and though he knew he should be scared of it, he couldn't help but not be. Anakin couldn't help it at all. How could he when she was the farthest from cruel, unless one counted the constricting hold she had on his heart. Clenching her fist and squeezing all the remaining life from him whenever he thought of her. Wanting nothing more than to meet with her in spirit so that they could combine themselves and become one just as they always should be.

An overwhelming sense of clarity surged through Anakin then. With her soft face, the sensation of it against his hand all but memorized despite his incapability to actually _feel_ it with his droid hand. He still remembered, and the effect it brought was astounding. It made him want to grovel at her feet and do her bidding. His chest felt tight and his fingers ached with the wanting to touch her even though he already was. And, more than anything, Anakin wanted nothing more than for Padmé to sigh as though her heart was breaking, smile with sheer happiness, and at last, to cry out in his arms from the pleasure only he could give her. Whether it be physically, or mentally, both were as satisfying as the other to him.

Retracting the hand that was happily delving into the caverns of her lower back, Anakin brought it to the hook holding his cloak to his body and unclasped it, letting it drape to the floor in a dark wave. He used his golden hand to bring Padmé's face to his, her eyes now closed as she relinquished her self-control, leaving her with an inability to leave the kiss he was now bringing to her lips. It wasn't as if he could pull away, either. The taste of her love was a delicacy that only he could indulge in - something he would _overindulge_ in.

As his hands were occupied with caressing her face to his, her own smaller hands set themselves palm down onto his herculean torso, feeling the ridges and rises of his muscles even beneath the layers of fabric he wore. They traveled blindly downwards, but his body was something she'd never forget, so Padmé allowed her own replication of the Force to guide her actions. It wasn't until she had hooked her fingers onto his belt that she had to pull away and look downwards. She was hesitant on taking hold of his lightsaber when she heard a chuckle come from above her.

"It's only a lightsaber, Padmé," Anakin said with great nonchalance.

A scowl formed onto Padmé's near perfect complexion, the expression impulsively causing Anakin to rise his thumb to the line to press it away.

"It's a weapon of the Jedi, not just anyo-" she began but was interrupted by his finger on her lips to silence her.

Anakin unclipped the sleek hilt - with ease and comfort, Padmé noticed - and held it out to her, as if to prove that it was as harmless as the crown that decorated her hair. Then, in his typical manner - and she didn't need to look up to see the smirk on his lips - he used the ways of the Force to send the hilt across the room and, with great skill, he set it on top of one of the tables. Or, at least, she heard the metal upon smooth marble for his lips were upon hers, stealing her senses, before she could see him set it down.

"And your lips are a weapon not just anyone can touch," Anakin whispered as he pulled away for just a second to allow the words out.

Fingers began to retrace the linings of her nude body, continuing with what they had started in the first place. The curve of her breast; the hardening nub of her nipple as he imprinted it with his index and thumb. Padmé had already gone on to her own ventures, one that included bringing Anakin to the same state of raw nudity as she was in. If she were to be subjected to his mandations - one she was wholeheartedly consent with - then he certainly had to be, as well.

Within the course of his fingers traveling from the sockets of her collarbones down to the protruding bones that came with the tightness of skin from her pelvic bone, Padmé had removed his belt, center sash, and the tabards that hung from his broad shoulders. Anakin was traveling quickly and it was only a matter of time before the smile on her lips would break the embrace their lips had with one another. And it did almost immediately.

It was her turn to take hold of his face then, entwining her fingers into the soft bronze coils that wrapped around the nape of his neck only to guide him downwards, bringing his face to her. Padmé didn't give him the relief he sought just yet. Instead, she pressed long, lingering kisses to the various features of his face.

Anakin was taken aback at first, halting all actions as her lips melted onto the corners of his mouth, up towards the tip of his nose only to fall sideways onto the new scars upon the side of his cheek. He felt content once again, choosing to allow her tenderness to fill him and cloud his system with great serenity. His own movements became drowsy, as if Padmé were drugging him - intoxicating him.

Then her lips hovered above his skin, not exactly touching the flesh but close enough that he could visualize tiny, open palms reaching up like daggers into the air. Reaching up and doing whatever they could to attach themselves to her lips and bring her to them. But they couldn't, for her point of destination had arrived.

Anakin froze once more, his chest nearly bare. He would never get over the gentleness that was known as his wife. The way that it radiated into his own system, an extreme tenderness that in no way was tentative solely because Padmé could just as easily provoke a side out of him that was downright primal. In a way, it was more-so like a promise of power that was known to both but held in a leash; a challenge for one another while at the same time being a provocation when demand began to deteriorate.

And everything was off.

Delicate hands had gripped onto rustic hair while a calloused hand paired with cold metal ventured down the smoothness that had been corrupted with aroused bumps. Their lips crashed in a symphony of sighs and their kisses, constantly rising and falling in pressure and size. Fingers would sporadically touch one another, though they found themselves incapable of not staying on one spot for too long.

Padmé deftly touched the new scars that were raised into intricate designs. Some as clean, straight lines, others that resembled tribal markings like those of the Nelvannian warriors. Nevertheless, Anakin's new scars held an intricacy that only made her love him more - if that were even possible at that point; but she knew it was. He had fought, and he had won.

Upon feeling the silken sheets, purple in colour but having changed to an opaque hue due to the rose flush the setting sky had taken on, Anakin brought his hands that had tangled in her hair to hold her body firmly to lower it onto the bed. He held her tightly, not wanting to be too rough yet allowing the immense cravings he had for her over the previous months of being restricted from her love to be satiated. Kisses were pressed to the hollow of her neck as he brought her farther up into the bed. Impulsively, Padmé would react upon feeling the touch of his skin against hers, rising her hips to meet his, not caring if she were being haste.

It drove him insane.

Ocean eyes opened then, Anakin needing to see the spectacle beneath him, and oh, how beautiful it was. With her skin flushed and her glorious fall of hair that fanned out across the pillow he had rested her head on - it was perfection. Sheer, pure and utter perfection. He had become the hunter and Padmé became his prey.

His white teeth grazed the tight skin over her collarbone after biting the corner of her jaw and nibbling on the ligaments of her strained neck as she gave him further access to her body. She had all but surrendered to him, she had no other choice. Padmé could see her body already melting into his touch. Her mind already incapable of trying to seek dominance in the situation so that she could offer him the love she had sworn to give him. It was when his teeth had taken hold of the erect bud on her breast that she too became like him. A certain primal instinct that turned them into carnivores rather than lovers. Whatever they could get of one another, they would take it without protest.

The hand that had found familiar coils of sweat-damp silken sheets now found themselves clawing at the strict muscles of his arse, nails raking up his backside which produced a sharp hiss that Anakin exhaled onto her breast. The air that came from his mouth was warm and it only caused another wave of chills to shake her body.

"My Annie," Padmé meant to whisper but it came in a strangled moan thick in elated emotion.

How she said his name brought the man back up to her face, lips against hers once more as they refused to allow any more words to escape. They weren't for the world to hear and he would consume them, allowing her cries of passion to fuel his own. The fingers that had deftly traced over her figure before were now venturing downwards towards the soft, unprotected warmth between her legs. She brought in a sharp inhale then, knowing exactly what was coming next and she embraced it with another kiss to his lips. As if inviting him, _telling_ him not to wait. To just _go_.

Her body shot upwards at the sensation his fingers brought. The crown of curls hitting the soft canvas of the headboard, absorbing her impact just in time for Padmé to bring herself down from the animalistic edge that had surged through her. However, bringing herself back down so that her chest was against his mouth only brought his fingers deeper into her depth. As he was in everything he did, Anakin had excelled in the skill of providing pleasure with something as simple, yet intricate, as his fingers within her. His mind became one with hers; seeking what she wanted, what could be done to obtain it and ultimately how much of it he had to do to achieve the ultimate ecstasy for her.

This was all for Padmé. Anakin had no other incentive to do this with anyone else, nor would he ever seek to. She deserved the universe, and if his love was the closest thing to achieving the ultimate power within her, then he would be hers alone forever.

The metallic hand that had all but lost the coldness it seemed to always possess, now absorbed the heat it was touching and becoming like the skin it wanted so desperately to be. Though the way it held Padmé at points were too rough for even the smoothness of the metal, no complaints were made on her part so Anakin continued on. If he had nails, they would be marking her skin. If he had a pulse, she would be able to feel it. If he had fingerprints, her touch would become his own and there would be no form of identity in him other than of her.

A low groan vibrated out of his chest, the noise echoing out of the hollow of her neck where his lips had been attached to. The way her chin turned upwards, giving him access to the length of her long neck always turned him into some sort of animal that wanted nothing more than to draw blood and become satiated with its kill. A primal, feral part that influenced the motions of his fingers to grow more hungry with the necessity to go deeper. To produce more of a reaction. Anakin curled his fingers into a come hither motion, his thumb holding the exterior of the very heat he was working to unwind.

Padmé had brought her hands to his hair. Knotting her fingers through the knots that were obtaining quite a bit amount of sweat, but it wasn't due to the exertion he was displaying on helping her achieve euphoria. Anakin was finding it harder and harder to restrain himself from taking her every other second. The sighs intermingled with the moaning of his name, it drove him to a part of his mind that he never wanted to go to. A side that whispered for him to not care for her safety and to ensue to the most impetuous brutality to achieve his own personal pleasure. It was a part of him that he feared and always repressed. But he would never do that, especially now as her hands took hold of the sides of his face as her forehead touched against his.

They shared each other's air. Anakin inhaling as Padmé exhaled only to have it be a cyclical exchange. She moved her hips against his hand, his gold hand of durosteel holding the small of her back and guiding her through her impulsive actions.

It continued until finally, she came free.

Tears fell from the corner of her eyes, the moisture gathering on her eyelashes and the intensity of emotions that coursed through her blood like the most lethal of drugs. Padmé had taken hold of her lower lip with her teeth, but before she could bite down to stifle the noises that were impetuously leaving her system, Anakin had taken hold of the swollen skin and was now extracting her elation. Everything inside of him smiled with a smug air, feeling proud of the achievement he had done. Better than any battle he had won thus far, and for any to come if it should be tallied into the comparison at hand.

Even with her breathing coming haggardly as she tried to regain some form of calm after meeting her high, it was a fight she could never win. Anakin made it near impossible, for with each kiss to her lips, every touch that impacted, her conscious was thrown over a metaphorical cliff with no way to climb out of the cavern.

Anakin removed his fingers from their placement inside of Padmé, using both hands now to take hold of her hips as he held her as close as their bodies would allow. _Bodies,_ he thought. _What a silly thing to separate us from truly being together._ After the thought was said within his head, he brought his hands to take hold of her head once more; holding her to him as he kissed her with such clarity that nothing would ever be able to mistake his love for her ever again.

The sun had near set by then, but Padmé could still see Anakin as if the sun were in the room with them. However, with the kiss she was receiving, the sun was in no way capable of being as bright as the exuberance that Anakin radiated. The night would cower if Anakin Skywalker walked out in it because he _was_ the sun.

Padmé slid her hands downwards then, taking hold of his ribs as she allowed his tongue to enter her mouth in a sporadic dance to venture into points she wanted him to venture to. It was still hard to breathe, the quick rise and fall to her chest interlaced with the rapid beat of her heart. But it was his turn. It was long past due to be his turn. Anakin was the one returning from war for only the battle new how long. They might have a week, or they may only have that single night.

Delicate hands took hold of his hips, feeling the muscles that wrapped themselves around the bone flex as she brought forth the usage of them to bring his lower half down closer to hers. Padmé knew that he was restraining himself, trying to let her get some of her bearings back before continuing the activities that they were pursuing. This thought brought an endearing smile to her face, choosing that moment to offer some resistance to the actions he was pursuing with his tongue. She could feel the shock as Anakin hesitated slightly, not expecting her to arise conflict towards his dominance. It was a hesitance short lived as he met Padmé at a mediation, allowing her tongue to venture into his mouth but not far enough before he pushed both himself and herself into the sweet warmth that was her.

It came naturally then. Fighting while not necessarily fighting. Each one wanted nothing more than to prove to the other that they loved them far more stronger than even love could provide. Her body rocking upwards into his with Anakin having no temperance in ceasing her movements thus leading him to abide. Just as he was internally, he was glorious externally, and this revelation never ceased to amaze Padmé in the slightest. Though her hands had yet to remove themselves from their tight grip in his hair, she forced herself to unclasp one of the first and bring it down, shaking with the frenzy inside of her. He had taken to nipping and sucking, tasting and inhaling the skin beneath her jawbone as she brought her head to the side, making her jaw more pronounced for him. As he felt her hand making its gradual way downwards, Anakin removed his lips from where they were clasped to her jaw and returned them to their home on her mouth. At the same time, his mechno-arm impulsively went to meet her hand, the electrostatic fingertips allowing him to feel the rapid heart rate just as his chest felt with her heart against his. Their bodies were already rocking in rhythm with each other so just as he took her hand, he helped her achieve its objective by wrapping her thin fingers around the part of himself exploding in the necessity to have her. He helped her guide him toward her and though he waited for her consent it was done without thought on her end as the pressure of her depth around him caused a guttural groan to echo throughout the room.

It was in that moment that Anakin Skywalker truly became one with her. His body moving to the rhythm of her own. The rise and fall to the jagged heart, attempting to consume the shallow amount of oxygen filling her lungs. He felt himself become like an electric current, running through her veins and rooting itself inside her; branching out and absorbing anything that would stunt the energy she was emitting and that they were now sharing. Anakin pulled against her grip, but Padmé brought him closer to her as if the mere centimeter would break the bond they held. He pressed even deeper than before, his long hair curtaining around her face as her own coils spiraled over the wrinkled sheets beneath her. She was a goddess of all moons and suns, all planets and galaxies to Anakin. Yet, to Padmé, he was exactly that. Together they were everything that ever existed and they were only creating more with the love they were releasing onto each other.

"I love you," he whispered repeatedly into the air surrounding to which she answered in kisses. No coherent word could be made in that moment, only actions.

A sound like a whimper came from Padmé, threatening to escape the knot of arms and bodies the two had fell into. Anakin was on his knees and toes, his ankles touching hers as he strategically used his legs to hold her apart so that he could satiate both of their necessities more efficiently. Her hands were grabbing onto his face, hard, and the pressure only intensified his actions. He pressed further, deeper until there was no where else to go. There was nothing else to do except attempt to kiss her, to attempt to tell him she loved him, but all that could be done was to try and achieve the pure connection they had been trying so desperately to achieve.

The fire within burned up through their bodies, and they could both feel it. Rising and licking at every crevice of their beings. Padmé could feel the bruises forming on her fair skin off in a distant place in her mind, but she didn't care. If she could have his touch burnt onto her skin for eternity, she would, for it would mean that her body would never be apart from his. Apart from what they were sharing. She would be forever branded.

She felt herself nearly beside the brink just at the same moment Anakin felt the same. His movements became that of haste, all fluidity lost as he tried to ignore the restrictions that were his tired muscles fighting for him to stop. He wouldn't dare. He couldn't stop and neither could Padmé. They worked in unison - struggling, but not in the sense as thought they wanted to get away. They were struggling to get closer, fighting the same fight.

Then, with an arm of half steel and flesh that wrapped around her back, protruding ribs racking against the metal at the heavy breathing and a hand that caressed the bulbous mound of her breast with electrostatic fingertips absorbing the warmth; and another arm of pure flesh, hooked under her bare shoulder and a hand that held the back of her head in an embrace - Anakin found his peak. Beneath him, with a sheen of moisture layered on top of her flushed body, bursts of rose hues commingled with the ivory backdrop, both of her hands held the mass of his head so that his face could not leave her vicinity. Padmé held him to her, her mouth open and breathing in the loud exhales of groans that erupted from him at his climax. A joyous smile spread to her open lips and her head impulsively went backwards into the pillow as, she too, found her high.

Her legs wrapped around his with strength, just as his embrace was constricting her to the point where she couldn't breathe - not like it mattered, for she wouldn't even be able to catch her breathe on a clear, spring day - they met each other in a void that only the truest and purest of passion could meet. It was a void created for them, more powerful than the Force and brighter than any sun in the galaxy. It was heaven in the sense of the love and the acceptance that they felt, and it was like hell due to the agony they knew they would feel when they would soon have to leave their haven.

The sun had all but fallen by then, the lovers still in their embrace as the stars began to expose themselves. Their bodies were at each other's leisure with soft caresses and promises of tomorrow made. With the night sky shining down on them, the moon illuminating them like a spotlight, they were the greatest love the worlds could ever imagine. And in that night, it was the most powerful of exchanges between body and soul, both possessed by Anakin and Padmé, that created what would be the very things that bound them together as one.

* * *

Brown eyes looked into blue ones, just like they had so many times. The memory gave another moment of life that Padmé knew was slipping inevitably away, no matter how hard she forced her body to stay. She was just so weak, so helpless. Her children, her Luke and her little Leia, they were safe. They would always be safe, she knew it with a burning knowledge. It was the man before her, with blue eyes that shone down to his broken and dark heart, that she knew could be saved. Just not by her.

Being apart from Anakin's presence while being taken to the Halls of Healing finally gave her mind the clarity she so desperately needed. Though it had been difficult to process her surroundings and altogether formulate a single coherent thought, her mind had still been that of a fog with her questions and revelations. They all screamed at her, begging for attention to be processed, but she had only listened to the roar of them all.

What she _had_ put together was the sole thing she wished she hadn't.

Anakin Skywalker - her confidant, her best friend, her lover, her warrior, her husband, and the father to her children - had turned to the Dark Side. Not only that, if not for her intervention, Anakin would have surely slain the Jedi and all that stood for the Jedi Order and the Republic without so much as a flinch. He even had his 501st Legion to ensure it.

Padmé knew what he was capable of. She knew how he was when vengeance was his dominating motive. And she knew that once Anakin was set on a mission, he would not falter until it was complete, no matter what was done to accomplish it in the process. His morality had begun to plummet after the death of his mother. Small instances rooting themselves deeply into his brain and tainting his thoughts with a darkness that even made herself fear for him in a way no wife should fear for her husband. Then, after the betrayal inflicted on Ahsoka by Barriss Offee, the fog was not only internal anymore, but external as well. A coldness would settle at times when they were alone together in their bedroom. When his mind wasn't guarded and his thoughts would consume him - Padmé could feel it.

If Anakin, indeed, was on his way to the Jedi Temple to eliminate the Jedi, it only meant one thing. The only beings that resided in the Jedi Temple during the Clone Wars were the youth, the sick, or the healers - and he was meant to slaughter them all if it had not been for her. Yet, even after stopping him - the internal conflict to lay was still overwhelmingly present.

His soul had been tainted, and she had done what she could to save him, but it went without avail. Padmé had worked to build so many things, yet they all crumbled and she was left alone in its ashes.

Sometimes, a sense of isolation is like acid spilling out of a bottle - it can unconsciously eat away at a person's heart and dissolve it. It can be isolation in the way of being lonely, or in the aspect of being truly alone. For Padmé Amidala, it was both.

With brown eyes of clarity, relishing in that moment so long ago on Varykino - the moment the twins were conceived and the last, true memory of peace between her and Anakin - Padmé stared at her beloved with the dimming light in her mind, her fingers impulsively rising to touch the features of his face she swore the Gods constructed.

"There… Is still good in you," she gasped. She tried to reach for him, but an abysmal cold had taken over by then. "I know there is… Still…"

And with the image of Anakin Skywalker embedded deeply into her mind, she allowed the abyss to take her and her lover away.


	8. VIII - Force

**DISCLAIMER** : _I own nothing apart from my own work. I do not own Star Wars, LucasFilms, Disney, Anakin Skywalker - fml - and if this work of fiction is similar to any that have been done before, I apologise in advance. I can assure you, this was created from my mind with Star Wars as the basis and my own insanity commingled in._

 **Author's Note** : _I apologise for the atmosphere that the last chapter brought, but I also don't apologise in the slightest. Who doesn't love Anidala intimacy? Anyways... Promise that this chapter continues on with the story and you guys... Take a breath, a_ deep _breath... And enjoy. Or die a little, entirely up to you._

 _I'd also like to remind you guys that this is my take on the story, and whatever you read ahead, is all my opinion on the whole matter of Padmé's death. I'll just say Iain McCaig illustrated various scenes and I got my beliefs from there. One last thing... WE HIT 150 RESPONSES GUYS! I couldn't thank you all enough for everything and I truly do love each and every single one of you nuggets for the sole reason that you enjoy this - or hopefully enjoy it. I promise I'll keep writing as long as you keep enjoying. With all that said, I hope you survive this!_

* * *

For an instant, eternal beat, Anakin watched her. He simply watched her. Silence pursued around, encasing him in a cocoon that stunted any and all action to halt within the circle that was of him and his beloved. There were words spoken, shouted, but Anakin remained paralysed in his mind; eyes simply staring down at the cold, paling face before him.

It was so cold, all heat gone as if a Hothan wind blew over. Its gusts wrapping around and constricting the perimeter even as his organs collapsed and his bones withered into dust, blowing away and lost forever.

In the distance, he could hear a voice - a voice unfamiliar to him. Filled with anguish, strained tightly with an insurgence of immense torture. Was it his voice? It must have been because it was the only voice speaking within the invisible ray-shield that swirled around them. It was filled with such emotion - love, heartbreak; pain, hatred. Emotions a Jedi shouldn't be capable of, and even then, Vader could be heard within the low growls pulsating beneath Anakin's voice. They were one in that moment, crying out to the love lost. To the life ended against its will and their own, as well. The current that had always rooted itself deeply into the lovers' bodies and souls was severed savagely leaving a gaping wound in its wake. Anakin Skywalker and Darth Vader were one as the dragon towered over both of them and watched with a knowing sneer.

The dragon had warned them; had told them that all things die, yet, neither believed him. And oh, how wrong they had been to defy the dragon.

Finally, the voice that belonged to both entities cried out. A mixture of fire and ice occurred as the body they resided in gripped onto the operating table with such immeasurable tenacity, holes were torn through in the wake of the mechno-ligaments. The body that had fallen to its knees convulsed with such fervor that the lifeless body upon the table he was grasping onto shook to the point where her head fell sideways, looking at him. Though Padmé could never look at him again for her brown eyes were not lost forever.

Anakin's cry had silenced everyone then, and as blue eyes opened, glazed over with more tears than ever before - even more than the ones that fell for his mother - he fixated his gaze onto her lifeless features.

He would never see her eyes again. Their colour so far from the mundane brown of others, but more of a mixture of the richest chocolate and the finest of amber woven together. He would never see her straight nose wrinkle slightly at the bridge when he told her something distasteful solely to get that exact reaction - usually pertaining to politics in which another onslaught of her reactions graced his presence. Anakin would never see Padmé point her chin upwards to reinstate her authority amongst those around. He would never see her forehead fold as she thought of various outcomes for duties, nor would he see her scowl at the way he spoke highly of his feats in the battles he had survived. And most of all, he would never feel the warmth of her lips against his, molding to the form of his love as he caused a blush to arise against the palms of his hands and words to be whispered for only his mouth to hear. Her love spoken in secrecy for only him to keep.

He had broken her. There was no more secrets, no more lies. They had pledged their love to one another, and though it was made of deception and falsities, it was a love that withstood anything because it could withstand their sentient beings that were so powerful to begin with. He had broken her, but she had broken him.

"Padmé! Padmé! Padmé!" Anakin continued. "Don't you _dare_ leave me! Don't you _dare_! This was supposed to be _our_ family, _our life_!

Hands desperately went from the titanium table to the softness of her face. The limbs shaking with uncontrollable adrenaline that was racing through him, making him sick. There was too much power within the single body. Too much that could not be restrained - Anakin realised that now. This power that the Chancellor had shown him, had bestowed upon him after giving him the knowledge of what he was capable of, it was uncontrollable now that he was unable to be in control of his own self.

Anakin could see the dragon now, smirking in all its fiery glory at the sight before him. The dragon had allowed him to bring forth Vader, leaving him in his heart to stay. The cold venom harvesting itself in his blood. The furnace that had risen into existence when given the task to kill so many, and the black hatred of everything after realising it was all a lie. The Jedi, the Chancellor, the 501st Legion, and the Republic… And himself. They were all a lie and he... He was a lie. The biggest of them all.

He had made a promise to his mother that he would not fail again and he had made the same promise to Padmé - that he would not let her succumb to the virtues of his nightmares. Yet, both women had perished in his arms, right before him, and left. And he could not keep either of them alive.

To Anakin, he held dead promises that came in the bodies of his most dearly loved ones. A promise should be eternal, just as his love for his mother and his Padmé, yet both had died. To Anakin, his promises felt like a lethal injection.

Within his mind, Anakin searched for the dark beings that had consumed his light. He walked blindly through an infinite abyss, but there was no dragon, nor was there a looming Vader. All that was left was Anakin Skywalker in his own stale mind. It had been him all along - the one who killed his mother, the one that killed his love, and the one that had killed who he was. In that blazing moment within the confines of his mind, Anakin Skywalker couldn't see anything else other than the hatred he had for himself. A mirror of the worst proportions.

The man raged and screamed, reaching into the Force of both darkness and light to savagely murder it all. He could hear the sounds of instruments crushing and voices screaming in fear. There were objects flying through the air around him and the face of his lover shaking. Her cold, hard carcass being inflicted against its own will with the repercussions of his wake. The hands of flesh and durosteel released themselves from their saviour, throwing themselves backwards as Anakin opened his chest and face for all of the world to see.

A shadow had taken over. From the glow of his red-rimmed eyes, to the strained tendons and veins breaching as they were near explosion. The shadow had destroyed him and Anakin was so far less than what he ever was now that he had lost the most vital thing to him - his soul. His strength. His weakness. His serenity. His future and his past. It was all gone now with the body that lay before him.

" _ **NO**_ _!_ "

The power released itself again. Exploding in waves that could easily be compared to the sandstorms of Tatooine, the blizzards of Hoth, and the volcanic eruptions of Mustafar all combined in one tremulous phenomenon. Various things erupted as if they were bombs detonating sporadically. Bacta tanks shot their liquids in various directions along with the glass that shattered quickly, the medicinal liquid spewing everywhere. Droids continued to crumble as if they were the thinnest of paper being smashed. Even the machines that had been connected to Padmé began ringing out the sound of her death and, within seconds, their tones were quickly muted upon his power compressing them, too.

Anakin's furnace heart went ablaze then as bright, yellow eyes widened their perimeter to look at those who dared to allow her to die. It had been their fault, after all. It had been all of their faults combined. For not only was he to blame, it was also them for they had everything within their reach and capability to save the woman from her death. Machines had proved themselves unworthy only until the moment to ring out her death. Healers had delivered but had not healed. The machines were all but gone and now it was time for the true enemies to meet their end. Shaak Ti… Vokara Che… Kyrus Mass… _Barriss Offee._

And the furnace heart blew.

He did not see the newborn that was in her caress, nor did he hear the warning shouts of the others around, their Force-sensitivity feeling the lethal disruption within the Force. It did not matter, for all Anakin saw was what everyone else surely saw in him - a traitor. His blue eyes bursting with gold only saw the treacherous olive skin of the Mirialan. Her blue eyes that were said to have been banned from the Temple, and black hair that was held back with a wrap that Anakin wanted nothing more than to strangle her with. But he had something much more potent to do his bidding.

Barriss Offee did not belong there, more so than any of the others. The hatred Anakin had for her only seemed to triple to a new height; magnify to the most potent intensity. _She did not belong there_ , it screamed out to him. _She must be exterminated_. She _did this to Padmé_. Not only did she not belong, she deserved to _die_ \- and Anakin saw nothing else but the truth it what the hatred said. Barriss deserved the worst of punishments - of true death, since the moment that she had confessed her betrayal to Ahsoka. Now, he would finally be able to finish what should have been concluded so long ago. Something that should have been done because it surely would have saved Padmé today.

Anakin stood to his full height, the shadows looming over him making him appear taller than he already was. With the full weight of the Force, he delved himself deeply into the surrounding energy; his own energy becoming invisible hooks that grappled onto the various bursts of currents that swirled with the Force. It tore at the very fabrics of the sole thing that lived while everything else was seemingly dead; Anakin savagely clawed at it all until it met the throat of Barriss.

Who a person truly is cannot be seen with the eye. Just as every being in the room watched the man before them, sickness welling in the very center of their chests and pits of their stomachs from the darkness radiating profusely from him - none of them would have ever thought that the Chosen One would fall so low. It had been there, though. Right before them, but they had been blind to it all. It always had been within, and in that moment, Anakin showed just the extent he was capable of.

Shaak Ti, crouched low and on the opposite side of Anakin, remained with her head intact, quickly assessing the situation at hand and holding the infant boy close to her chest though it protested grandly. Large, black eyes widened even further as she felt the surge of Anakin's power shoot towards Barriss and the Jedi Master reached a hand forward, eyes closing as she called the twin of the boy in the Merialan's arms towards her and out of her grasp. Still having been shaken from the explosion of the Force that burst from Anakin, Barriss had not expected Master Ti, nor anyone else for the matter, to act so quickly; but before her mind could reattach itself to her brain, the constriction in her throat began.

Anakin's agony shot out like an invisible hand, the full reign of his uncontrollable power immediately seizing the air in Barriss' throat as he tightened his grip on her. She began to levitate off of the ground, feet thrashing as her hands clawed at her throat, but there was nothing there that her hands could touch. He fed off of her fear and pain, letting it well inside of him before he twitched his fingers, breaking her neck ruthlessly and slamming the body to the floor with a chorus of bones breaking.

The loud voice of Master Vokara Che rang deep into his mind, her blue hand grabbing hold of his leather-wrapped durosteel forearm, trying to force him to control himself so that she could attend to the woman before him. She had no chance to process her body sailing through the air and towards Kyrus Mass, a fellow Jedi Knight, who had been injured during a most recent mission. Their bodies hitting one another only to be thrown against a bacta tank and cracking the glass with the force that they hit it with.

Gold eyes shot towards their next victim, guiding the man they belonged to to inflict the wrath that flowed out of him due to the amount within.

"There is still hope for her, Anakin Skywalker!" the Togrutan shouted, already releasing the twins to two of the Padawans that had regained themselves after the Force blow.

Anakin cried out, throwing back the few that dared to try and restrain him. Nothing could restrain him, not even himself. The dragon, Darth Vader, and Anakin Skywalker were combined and the fury of the trinity relinquished itself to reality for the first time as one. Their rage was wearing thin, though. Oxygen depleting, as well as the coal that had kept the furnace going.

"Liar!" he shouted back in a venomous cry. He was seething despite the rage that was hissing as it unknowingly went out.

 _How can there be hope?_ Anakin focused his attention, forcing the other two remnants of the demons that resided in him to reach out to Padmé. To feel the life inside of her in all of its heavenly glory, but to no avail since they were nearly all dead. There _were_ parts of her - tiny, microscopic beings - that remained glowing with a dimming light. These parts of her having no chance to truly make themselves known for each one simmered to darkness before Anakin could grab hold of them. Like fireflies dying in the palm of his hand, refusing to be captured but once imprisoned, rejecting all forms of imprisonment.

There _was_ no hope. There was only death and that was that.

"You failed!" Anakin shouted, eyes dark and voice like fire erupting once more. "You _killed_ her!"

Shaak Ti stepped forward, unafraid of the fallen Jedi's wrath. "I have done no such thing, Anakin."

Exertion drenched waves fell forward, curtaining the dark features as Anakin lowered his head at the statement. Tears continued to stream from his eyes, as if they were reacting badly to the change of colour they were transitioning to. With the feral yellow of the Sith, it brought redness to rim the lids along with a lost, black abyss to the pupils. His jaw was clenched tightly and Anakin forwarded the excess energy to constrict against another bacta tank.

"You said you would _care_ for her! And now she's _dead_! _She's dead_!"

His invisible grip was around the slender, orange neck before she could fight her case. Master Ti's mind shouted for the young man to see reason; to see that she could still be saved for she could sense it. His mind was clouded, unlike her's. His mind was filled with the confirmed fear of the loss rather than the yearning hope that should be instilled in that moment. With few grunts of discomfort, Shaak Ti directed waves of serenity, with the help of the Force, towards Anakin. It did little good, though, for the grip only tightened.

"She… Is n-ot… Lost," the Jedi Master strained outwards. The strength of the choke diminishing slightly.

A sound similar to a sob broke its way from the twisted creature standing before the body of its lover, though he didn't dare release his hold on the being he wanted so much to end. Shaak Ti _was_ the one he was meant to end. The Chancellor had instructed for him to. Yet, he had kept her alive because she was the only way for Padmé to be taken to safety. He could have brought her to the Halls of Healing himself and ended the Togrutan's life outside of the Temple. It could have been as simple as that, yet he had given her a task that only proved to be fatal.

"You were supposed to keep her safe!" said a voice that should have been Anakin's. "How could you let her die!"

"I did not let her die!" Shaak nearly shouted, resorting to her ulterior voice to try and pierce through his mind to make him see reason.

It did the opposite.

Padmé had pleaded for him to stay with her. That she would stay so long as _he_ would stay there with her. His tendency to think only as he wanted to blinded him from seeing the truth in what she meant. Anakin understood then, that she didn't mean it physically. It had all been mentally, yet he had been so clouded with the objective at hand at the time that he couldn't see it. He couldn't see what he had done to her. And it hit him, then. It truly came to him in one, eternal revelation that it was himself that had done this to her.

Anakin released the woman from his inflictions, as well as the surrounding room. It grew silent then as all energy was absorbed and the ways of the Force turned stale from the sudden declination of usage. He dropped to his knees in defeat and utter exhaustion; head bowed down to his deceased lover as if she were an angel he were praying to.

 _I'll stay with you if_ you _stay with me_ , she had said. The words echoing into his mind as what little of his drowning eyes could see as they looked upon the diminished life-source of his wife. She was so perfect, even now as she was no longer truly there. So perfect, yet so broken. Just as she had always been upon him joining her journey in life.

 _What have I done_ , Anakin whispered into his mind. _What have I done?_

A soft touch was given as Anakin reached forth to caress her cheek. A sickly colour already taking the place of the blushed warmth that had been there moments ago. A ghost of a smile came onto his face as Anakin forgot, for just a moment, that he was not touching a corpse. That Padmé was merely sleeping. Dreaming of tomorrow where they would be raising their family in peace. Where they were accepted for who they were and what they stood for. No war. No Republic. No Jedi Order. Just the two of them and their child. _Children_ , a distant voice whispered into his mind. _Luke and Leia._

Another sob sounded from his chest and the sound only continued in a cyclical way. Continuing as Anakin attempted to grasp for something, anything.

"I'll stay with you, Padmé! I'll stay with you, just _stay_ with me! _Please_! _Please_ , don't leave me alone. I'll stay, I promise, I'll stay," Anakin chanted in a voice as dead as his lover.

If silence could be muted, the operating room had summoned it.

Those who had been inflicted with his power looked on as the medical droids took the uninterrupted vantage towards the woman to assess the body. It was all gone now. The body of Anakin Skywalker was left as an empty carcass with nothing else residing in it - lost, confused... An abyss. He knew that his pleading was a shout into the void, oblivion already met, but his heart refused to believe such a thing. His heart would refuse this until the day that _he_ died and even beyond. Anakin knew that he would forever want nothing more than to claw out the source that craved for her - tear it from his chest so that the darkness would be easier to accept. But, even then, his heart would still refuse. It would continue to burn with the necessity of her touch, of her lips, of Padmé against his body or in his gentle caress. His heart told him to search in himself, to know that it could not be true - that her death could not be true. Such a strong, powerful entity could not be gone. His heart surged with a Force of its own, becoming the invisible hand Anakin so often used to feel and search through the ways of the Force that surrounded him with. It was all internal now - everything. His heart became his strength, his weakness. Anakin's heart became Padmé.

 _He who surrenders hope, surrenders life._

The words rang true in Anakin - from the bones of his spine to the fibres and ligaments of his eyes and muscles. Padmé couldn't be dead because he would not allow it. The Chancellor had said that another was capable of saving someone from death. _Another_ was capable, and they weren't even the Chosen One. Anyone could save another from death, and yes, she had died, but being the Chosen One surely amounted to the fact that he _could_ revive her. All along, his powers had amounted to what they were because of what he was destined to be and what he could and would do. So, why was he able to destroy the Sith and save the galaxy from darkness, yet be unable to save the last essence of light that resided in the galaxy? It didn't make any sense to him.

The Chancellor had said that he would gain the power to save Padmé after completing his task of slaying the Jedi. By cleansing the galaxy from the impurities that were said to be the actual enemy. That wasn't the case now that he could see with clarity. Death wasn't his answer. A thousand deaths would never be equal to Padmé's death, but the only thing that could rival the agony he felt of her death was the love he held for her life.

The moment that the realisation hit was eternal; fueling his insides with a new venom that coursed faster than any Force-driven sentient ever could. As if every crevice of him had a mind and within the same moment the words of truth were spoken, every part of him burst with an understanding clarity of the situation.

Anakin had more power than any Jedi could dream of and was stronger than any Sith ever was because he was now in control of the darkness within. He was the Chosen One. Since the first day life shed its light onto him, it was the very reason as to why he was everything. Anakin was the Jedi and Anakin was the Sith - the light and the dark - together as one. He was the Force and everything it established. And in that moment, he was the only thing that could give life to one who had been lost too soon.

Hands lowered themselves from the anchoring embrace they had held on Padmé's soft facial features. The hand of durosteel traveling to her stomach that was no longer hard with the strain of their children, and the hand of flesh venturing to be placed over her heart. It brought pain as Anakin knew he wouldn't receive her heart's answering beat, yet with the pain, it summoned forth a suffocating amount of determination.

The determination became more than an invisible hand now. Taking on forearms that connected to shoulders that became attached to a torso, stemming downwards with powerful legs as a skull formed and a mind blooming within its core. His determination became an essence of the Force that he had created, helping him with hands that stretched out into the Force within Padmé and rooting themselves to her. Anakin felt the silken softness of her skin and the loose material that was all but gone to his senses.

The way of the Force he had created felt more than physicality. It did not feel the sleek coils of her hair, nor did it deter its advancements due to the death within. Instead, the body was dissolving into pure energy - just as the invisible hand had done before - that only evaporated into pure _feeling_ that reached inside her once more. It did not surround her, nor was it controlling her - it was becoming her. It _felt_ her as if she were dipped into the very core of the Force; attaching itself to the bond she had with life. A connection that was deeper and more intimate than Anakin had ever felt before, for the essence he had created was channeling its discoveries back to him. His breathing was sharp, but he held onto his hope stronger than anything else that had been before.

Then, just as the body had become Padmé, Anakin followed in its wake. He ventured into the still veins; into her stiffening muscles; the inactive brain until he went back down to where his left hand was placed over. Anakin could feel his own power radiating downwards onto the heart he was grasping to. He could feel his own fist clenching around the organ, remembering the tune that it beat when she was asleep and when she was awake. When she was in total serenity, as well as when she was angry. A pulse he recalled with so much pleasure that touching her heart brought him to every moment they spent together. From the moment they met, to their marriage and every point of happiness they shared up until that point.

Anakin noticed that everything felt dry within the angelic shell, as if it had been depleted from something more than just her life. Like a fire trying to go on without coals or oxygen, the mechno-hand above her deflating belly sensed the remnants of the cause. A scowl took place on Anakin's exerted forehead, the sweat pooling in the crevices. _How?_ he questioned as his connection to Padmé was slightly deterred for second as confused, blue eyes looked up to the Jedi Healer who had been standing before him.

"The... The twins... They're Force-sensitive already, correct? So, when a woman is pregnant, do the child and mother share blood or like a bond or...?" Anakin tumbled over his words; his body not nearly as connected to his mind as it should have been.

Eyes returned downwards to Padmé's still form. His mind was churning but Anakin knew the answer to his questions, his mind simply hadn't formulated just exactly how he knew. The Twi'lek, however, _was_ able to piece together exactly what the Jedi Knight was trying to understand and immediately placed her hands on top of his in an attempt to make him understand and continue what he was doing.

"She is deprived!" Master Che exclaimed more so to herself than to answer Anakin.

The two Force-sensitive Jedi looked up with astonished looks coated over the hues of their eyes, the shock of the discovery paralysing them for a mere second before Anakin held the hand that had been over her heart towards the woman.

"Give her my blood. She needs midi-chlorians," he hastily told her. There was one thing certain, though - his words were clear. " _NOW._ "

 _Of course she died. How could she not? How could_ I _not have seen this? It's like the downworlders on Crude; you take it away, they die. Luke and Leia took their midi-chlorians upon their birth leaving her empty after so long. Of course!_

Anakin had sensed it before, but merely shrugged it off with the thought that it was Leia - _and Luke,_ he added. Not once, though, had he thought that the baby would have this immense of an effect on Padmé. A small smile wavered onto his pink lips, sparked by the genuine hope grasping onto his being. The arm that was extended was being dealt with a droid, pushing up the dark brown sleeves to gain access to his forearm.

What Padmé needed were midi-chlorians to compensate for the loss of the withdrawals that had killed her. Being, at least to his knowledge, the most Force-sensitive wielder to ever exist, that made those who shared his bloodline to be just as potent within the Force. And if Master Che were correct, radical transformations in a woman were normal during pregnancy - the midi-chlorian count was more than likely higher in her blood at the time of her pregnancy because of the double amount that the twins brought. She was probably stronger in the Force than he ever would be and due to this, the birth of the twins left her empty in their wake.

Anakin replaced his hand over her heart once the blood was taken, reattaching himself to the connection he had been in before but this time with a brightness to his soul knowing he could save her now. With his blood in her body, he could ignite the Force within and also illuminate the life-source inside of her. He would become her body, her organs, the blood now forcing its way into her veins.

Anakin became Padmé once more.

Again, Anakin remembered the beat of her heart. The touch of her silken fingers. Her lips as she spoke his name - speaking a prayer to the stars and the bursting galaxies beyond. Her purity for seeing goodness in others; the passion for even the smallest of things; the truth in her love for him, their children, the world... And everything inside of Anakin screamed to the Force within Padmé.

 _I love you, Padmé,_ Anakin said from within. _I will not let you die. I will not let you go as my mother did and I_ will _stay with you. Wherever you go, whatever you do... We are one. We will always be one, my love. I_ will _stay._

And a voice of clarity screamed back like a thousand voices needing to be heard. Blue eyes stained with burning tears burst open as Anakin was thrown back with a current of the Force. He fell hard onto the floor, all connection to Padmé lost. His hands stung from the impact of the floor, as did his body as it absorbed the impact. But none of it mattered. Everything was in stunned silence because on the steel table before him lay a woman, one of skin so soft it put silk to shame and a voice so strong it silenced many. On the steel table before everyone lay a woman with her back raised from the metal surface and her mouth agape, lungs gasping for air with hands that clawed at the edges of the operating table.

On the steel table was a woman with brown eyes wide open as she searched her surroundings only to land on blue eyes already staring back at her.


	9. IX - Light

**DISCLAIMER** : _I own nothing apart from my own work. I do not own Star Wars, LucasFilms, Disney, Anakin Skywalker - fml - and if this work of fiction is similar to any that have been done before, I apologise in advance. I can assure you, this was created from my mind with Star Wars as the basis and my own insanity commingled in._

 **Author's Note** : _I'm baaaaaack! The biggest of apologies for the long hiatus that was taken. One, of course, with a perfectly eligible excuse being that… My computer crapped out. Yes. Display driver, battery - it was literally all at once. But it's here, and here comes the Force Awakens and sanity is all but gone and, of course, there are 230 hits for TTM! Thank you all for hanging in there and I truly hope you enjoy this immensely._

 _But, again, I apologise for the delayed posting, like really, truly apologise. x_

* * *

An abysmal effect. Where nothing is everything and everything is nothing. There is no emotion, no physicality. It is a state of the inability to absorb with the ability to continue having a presence, nonetheless. Death affected people in the aspect that, no matter if one was the deceased or one was in mourning, a state of purgatory pursued.

It was a cavern with arms, determined and powerful arms, that pushed her down. No matter the persistence she displayed, the attempts that were made in the retrieval of life, Padmé found no solace. All that could be given was perdition. The many times she had awaken at night, paralyzed with sleep and every fibre of her body unable to follow the commands her brain would shout out, they were all minuscule in definition to the sensation occurring within. Nothing could prepare her for it, and nothing would come after it. Somewhere, a place she was not sure she knew of, told her so. The same place also informed her that it was death.

Her death.

Every so often, a will from within fought to the surface of her being to not succumb to her death. To climb and be one with the life she should be grasping on to. To the children she had birthed and named. To the good that she knew she could bring forth from her soul's love. The darkness disagreed. Its abysmal shadow with powerful arms unleashed its wrath and Padmé absorbed its power, the shock blasting her backwards to crash against even stronger arms to force her down.

And she fell. She fell a long way.

In that point in time, where there was no hope for her sole self to return to the brightness of life, no final thoughts were consulting for presence into her mind, nor were there any pleas from her heart to hold onto their beats. It was over and Padmé accepted it.

Then, it all happened at once. The bright light, illuminating the arms of Death and burning them. Their dark flesh becoming ashen with flakes that sifted away like the pages being burned and floating away in the wind. The burning remnants grazed her body and face, entwining in the mess of curls that spiraled violently in the currents of the light. The light had taken hold of her and its strength was insurmountable. It was life. It was fortitude and ferocity. It was abrasive and stubborn. And it would not let her go.

The first dawn of light that painted its way inside of her was painful. Her body felt on fire; a flame licking into every crevice both internally and externally. She could see it, see her body awaken before her very eyes in a slow, but steady pace. Her mind flashed images of purity in speeds that put even the fastest ship in the galaxy to shame. Images of Anakin as a child, when he first saw her with his blue eyes glistening brightly. Those same eyes laying upon her once more, this time more mature, more understanding to what the galaxy meant. Having seen a great amount of things, yet held the adoration that had been present ten years before only to be present ten years later. To the same blue hues that grew in love and trust, a soul-wrenching gratitude for returning the love they so desperately needed. And now to blue eyes, just as the eyes of the man who he had inherited them from, looked with mild curiosity in the split second they were visible. Then to brown eyes so much like her own, but never her own – never. These hues were like the strongest of soil that held fortitude for the future of its kind; to grow from demolition. Eyes that its father had yearned for and seen in his dreams.

The light burst through her own eyes and all at once, as fast as it had taken over the very figment of her existence, the fiery illumination ceased leaving behind a heated glow in the cessation of its presence. There was, once again, life in Padmé Amidala. Her soul had awoken to a mass burst of brilliance and she couldn't help but gasp for the much needed air to return into her shriveled lungs. The fire within her body was still present, tickling her as if her entire body had fallen asleep only to awake all at once.

It did not feel right, but one thing was certain – She was alive.

Her pupils contracted to mere pinpoints, dilated again rapidly, and then returned to something resembling normalcy for someone who had just been brought back from the afterlife. Everything was confusing, yet it was all familiar. The operating room she had been brought to; the people on the floor having been thrown back by the Force that had erupted seconds prior… The contorted, olive-toned body of the lifeless Mirialan – And him.

Brown eyes finally met blue ones. The hue of blue that never failed to remind her of the lake country on Naboo; of the lakes and streams that flowed endlessly without prevail in their journey to never be restrained. Of home. The same blue eyes of their son, and of the flashing memories that had sparked the life inside as the light brought her back. These were the eyes she found comfort in, not fear. There was no more appearance of the deranged colour of golden evil, nor the blood-red veins that had begun to sprout from the, now white, sclera. Bruising was still present beneath his eyes, along with the swollen red rims of his eyelids, but apart from it all, only the look of awe was present.

No evil, no love – simply awe. And she smiled a small smile that was more-so the ghost of happiness rather than the visual representation of it.

Padmé found the necessity to speak strong in that moment, desire to question what had just occurred. To her own panic, though, she could not find the sweet tone. Nothing came through, not even a hoarse whisper. True panic began to arise now as the realisation of what had happened began to take its impact. She had died. She had said her last words and seen her children for the last time. Had seen _him_ for the final and last time. Paling lips that were losing their rosen colour mouthed words of consternation towards the bodies now running toward her, but her brown eyes almost instantaneously found their way to the very person she was tethered to. It was then that she found her voice, only to have it masked in the shrill of a panicked scream.

* * *

Lost. Found. Awe. Stupor.

Every emotion, and more, attempted to take dominance in his mind, yet Anakin Skywalker could not hone in on a singular particle of humanity. His body and head had taken on the interior of a shelled-out carcass as eyes shot unresponsive images of the woman lying up before him. He could feel his body shaking as it trembled with uncertainty at the sight, not being sure if he should truly believe the reality his eyes were set upon, or to awaken himself from the newest form of dream state he had obtained – a newfound nightmare.

 _Is she truly alive?_ a voice persisted to say in the cavernous reaches of his mind. The voice was deep, gravelly. An indistinct crack that he could not recognise to save the life of him. However, though the distant anomaly repetitiously chanted the question, Anakin had but one response. _Is she_?

Anakin could not move, only breathe. Mechanically as if a part of him wanted to ensure he would witness what could possibly come next. Padmé was there. She was right before him staring his way while her chest moved at the speed of a sublight drive. Surely compensating for the restriction of what it most needed, apart from his blood flowing in her veins. He could still feel her, just as strongly as he could see her. Her emotions coursing every which way in an attempt to make sense of what had happened just as he, too, was doing without avail. It was the scream, however, that filled the carcass shell with meat. Triggered the mechanism within his mind to react.

 _She is_ , Anakin answered the voice who had nothing to say in reply. It had all but disappeared.

The many personnel in the room who were now clouding his view of the white-clothed woman on steel became a hindrance Anakin could not muster to ignore. Without thought, he twitched both fingers, one of flesh and the other of durosteel, to ward off the onslaught of bodies with a Force blow to leave him beside Padmé. A protest from Master Ti and Master Che rained down like fire upon the Jedi Knight, but all was lost upon the moment his hands made impact with her flushed cheeks.

"Padmé… Padmé… I'm here. I'm here, my love," Anakin pressed.

Fingers held tightly to the soft flesh, fingers subconsciously entwining themselves into the crazed spirals shooting from the crown of her head. A crease pressed between the glistening forehead that was nearly always smooth. He released a finger to glide it over the expression of negativity she felt, attempting to rid her from the distress she was under.

He was failing.

Gasp after gasp continued to sound on as her teeth pulsated against each other. Fear now ricocheting off of every bone and muscle until the steel table began to shake along with her. Confusion clouded Anakin's mind as he softened his hold on his wife, a scowl of his own taking place onto his head. He blinked. Was it fear that she was staring at him with? Surely it could not be that. His eyesight pulled away, followed by his hands as they stood motionless in midair, his mind unsure as to whether he should replace their touch on the woman falling apart before him – his soul erupting in a self-detonating inferno – or to ultimately retreat from her completely. And, yet again, Anakin found himself blinking back tears unsuccessfully with the utter sense of facing something that was not within his power.

* * *

Her hands began to claw, once more, at the table she was placed upon. They did not stay there long, though. Instead, they began to travel to her chest, lacerating the invisible shield that was threatening to press her down into herself. The sensation of creatures crawling within her set her entire body on high alarm. It was painful, even more so than the pains she had endured while her children beaconed for her to release them into the world. Even more excruciating than the sight of violent darkness that had shrouded Anakin's very being. It wasn't there anymore, but for some odd reason, she could sense it. Padmé felt the darkness eating away at her insides as if the very shadows were slicing through her to take control of her body and leave her remnants in a tattered, demised mess.

There had been so much death, already. There was so much more occurring. She could feel it, blow by blow, as if to her soul. No matter how many convulsive breaths she took into her lungs, none of them could satiate the dooming liquid fire that was burning her insides. Padmé wanted the light, for she could not take the darkness any longer.

Eyes looked towards Anakin, yearning for the blues she so loved to gratify her necessity for lightness to extinguish the fire. He was holding her; her face turning into the hand of durosteel as she always seemed to do subconsciously, but the pain was unbearable. Within her, she could feel the shadows pulling her towards whatever darkness was before her – within Anakin.

Demoralization began to unfold within her sanity as Padmé tried to make sense of what was happening. Why such torture was being inflicted upon her. It surely couldn't be Anakin forcing this torment upon her, he was not capable of it. Surely he wasn't, was he not? His eyes spoke the truth in that statement – of course he wasn't.

So why was he pulling away?

Her face was shrouded with moisture; hair sticking to her temples from where he had pulled them forward. Her open mouth unable to withhold the salivation that was being overly produced along with the tears pouring from her eyes. Delicate hands went to rest upon the display of her affection for her love but found only a slightly deflated shape instead. Even more horror strained until Padmé physically felt her sanity leave. Nothing made sense and it was going to kill her.

It was not fear from Anakin's presence that she knew he saw, nor the confusion towards what had happened which was obvious in her. It was fear for the death trying to explode her from within.

* * *

Anakin pulled away, darkness clouding his judgement once more. His senses hummed with death from the far off massacre pursuing in the galaxy. With the disgust that was welling against his own self. The voice was returning with every dissertation he thought of – the more hate that continued to arise. He found out, now, that the unfamiliar voice from earlier was that of none other than Darth Vader; pressing to come into existence and to take dominance once more in the wake of the weakened Anakin Skywalker. For Anakin was weak compared to Darth Vader. Anakin had no doubt of it, especially with what he was now doing to Padmé. With his blood ruining her and fear already present by the fact.

An eternal battle of massive grandeur took place in the body of Anakin Skywalker. The dragon watching on with a slithering smile, egging the two on as it already knew of itself to be the winner of it all. Deep gasps from constricted air pipes brought his own vision to blur, or maybe it was due to the tears boiling over. He did not even notice the trembling hand that was outstretched the few feet he had traveled away from his mirrored soul.

"Anakin," Shaak Ti stated urgently, pulling the young Jedi from the psychological battle almost instantaneously.

He looked up only to travel into the direction the Togrutan was motioning with her own eyes – towards Padmé's craving hand. Anakin took full control over himself, encasing both the dragon and Vader with a brute strength that put even the full Force of the Jedi Council to shame. Hands entwined, the moisture from both palms having no effect on the hold that could tie down the stars. Once again, they were tethered and almost immediately did Anakin see a sense of relaxation cross over the crying eyes. His tall frame leaned down into a crouch, something in the part of his mind that was watching over his body informing him that he was now reacting to an infliction he had suffered before. A wound of some sort.

Anakin repressed it. His own pain did not matter when far greater things matter to him.

"We have to sedate her during this process, Skywalker. There is too much occurring within her body for Senator Amidala to sustain it while conscious," Vokara Che spoke urgently.

An immediate protest began to form as his grip tightened on Padmé's, but she tested it with a clutch of her own. Her hold was enough to bring his eyes back towards her, signaling for the Chief Healer to begin barking orders to those who were still coherent enough to understand them. In the distance, Anakin heard Master Che instruct another to tend to his own wounds, and he made no form of protest against it. Wounds were a hindrance, but there was a War beyond the Halls of Healing, and there had to be nothing to uproot him from his family now.

In that moment, his primary function was to be whatever anchor his senses were telling him to act for Padmé. Others began to infiltrate the room, shouting information of a ship that would take those in the Healing Halls to safety. How their room would be evacuated into the realms of space. In the further corners of the room, Anakin could feel the presence of his children, discomforted with the energies bombarding the room. Eyes clenched shut as he forced himself to remain calm in the sophisticated destruction. His Leia and Luke were safe. And Padmé would be, too.

"I love you," was what his guttural voice chose to chant instead, the chaos continuing beyond their calm.


	10. X - War

**DISCLAIMER** : _I own nothing apart from my own work. I do not own Star Wars, LucasFilms, Disney, Anakin Skywalker - fml - and if this work of fiction is similar to any that have been done before, I apologise in advance. I can assure you, this was created from my mind with Star Wars as the basis and my own insanity commingled in._

 **Author's Note** : _REMEMBER, REMEMBER THE SITH OF NOVEMBER! Now, the apologies couldn't express how much I sincerely am sorry for taking this long to update, so please enjoy this pleasant surprise. As always, comments are welcome and I hope you enjoy._

* * *

They had convinced him to sit against the wall. Willed him to abide by their requests while using the notion of his family's health as their reasoning. To bring peace to his mentality and to search for the Light as it would mirror onto those in his vicinity. As the war raged on around them and pulsated from the man within, it was what the medically inclined inhabitants of the operating room needed. Peace and order to bring about those that were there in the room to the Hangar Bay awaiting them. To have the Hero with No Fear burst as he had would stunt them all, and with that realisation alone, Anakin Skywalker abided by their requests to stun the chaos for his family to leave.

Anakin Skywalker, the Hero with No Fear, deemed to sitting on the sidelines of both wars going on in fear he would hurt those he loved.

A sigh was breathed, only audible to him as his posture demolished to a slouch. His eyesight exchanged themselves between the three primary beings holding the majority of the attention in the consistent room. From the ruffled brown curls curtained around a now flushed, ivory face, body unmoving but to those checking vitals and implanting various metallic objects into her. As requested by Masters Shaak Ti and Vokara Che, Padmé had fallen unconscious as to lead any primary thoughts within her mind away from the healing they were trying to ensue upon her. The foreign blood running through her veins were being guided by the meditating Twi'lek. Doing as Anakin had and delving into the crevices that were craving to be satiated from being so dry. It was no feat to do as Master Che was doing, but with her skill and knowledge with the Force, it was more successful than not. Anakin could sense it as his entire gravitational pull towards the unconscious woman on the metallic table stayed within her to make sure Che was doing right since they didn't allow him to.

He was like a vein within her. Red and unstopping. Vibrant and strong. Continuously pulsing the life source through her for if he stopped, she would die. _Like a red string of fate_ , Anakin couldn't help but think, ensconcing his mind on the thought. Entwined by a string that tethered them to each other; anchored their fates into one which they now were. They were tethered now more than ever as he could feel the midichlorians entwining with her blood as they were pushed along by Master Che.

It hurt to see Padmé as she was. Then again, it felt like a soaring sunrise to know she would be well.

A movement of orange and Earth tones brought blue eyes to settle on their second and third points of attention. The personnel orbiting them rushing in an aqueous wave that it made it look like a choreographed dance. To his knowledge, no children had been born in the Halls of Healing. From the many times he had been forced to set roots there after returning from battle, not once had the occurrence of a birth been recorded in his visits. Nor in general. Then again, that was only to his knowledge.

Watchful eyes caught glimpses of his children, quiet in their nature from the serenity boasting from Shaak Ti, as they were probed and monitored as their mother was. They were before their due date - nearly a month. A more critical case since they were twins. Twins… That word alone brought Shaak Ti's peace to branch into his tired mind and settle it. Not one, but two of the greatest things that could happen to the galaxy. Despite the urgency the staff felt in accords to his children, Anakin couldn't help but now they would be all right. Yes, they were released into the world too soon, but they were Skywalkers. By their birth, they were entrusted the exemption from being impotent. Their father had it. Their mother had it. They would have that potency, too.

A sense of Anakin felt useless that there was nothing more that he could do apart from where he sat upon staring. As if his unrelinquishing gaze were enough to soothe the ravenous war. How could it? It was the request of another to him, but which war were they insinuating? To each in that room there was a different one. For the patients, it was to live. To the staff, it was the fight for their patients. For the Jedi's, it was finding the hope and justice in the many deaths happening to their comrades while maintaining their duties where they were. But for Anakin? His war could not be simplified nor could any other conclude it into one thing for him as the Healing staff thought they could.

A hero was one that others looked to. When darkness was there, whether it be in the form of a person, a cause or event, there was always a counter to it. A chosen source to counteract its abysmal hunger and suppress it into the nothing that it personified within. War was to peace as violence was to nonviolence. For the villain, there was the hero. Darkness compared to the light.

To Anakin Skywalker, he contained every form of warfare that could be mustered.

The bloodlust within him ran rapid. It remained in the confusion he felt towards who the enemy was. Who's side of the war he should fight alongside rather than against. For a long time, it had been against the Separatists. Before that, it was towards those who were the root of the Separatists. When he was a mere slave child and Darth Maul tainted the universe and before that, his slave owner. There was a war that was always being fought, always having opposing sides. Who represented the good and who withheld the evil; and, for a long time, Anakin believed that he was on the side fighting against evil. The very darkness that threatened every being, whether Force-sensitive or not, seducing them to its depths. But what was evil anymore? The person that had taken reign of the Republic and the Separatist movement had been the same person all along. Palpatine had exhibited himself to be the good and the evil of the galaxy. Leader to what most deemed good and leader to those who thought they were good when the rest thought of them as the terror. That same person had always remained a constant as good in Anakin's life. Had always been on his side since youth - after he became a padawan from being a slave, to when he released the information about his massacre of the Tuskan Raiders. The Chancellor remained fighting alongside him just as Anakin remained to do the same for him. He had fought his war, had vowed to continue fighting but as his apprentice. As Darth Vader.

So had he been fighting for both sides the entire time? If he looked up to one and followed orders from a leader her led both sides of the war, did that make Anakin both good and evil? Surely, no, for that could not exist amongst the Force. There was only one or the other.

For the first time in a long time, Anakin closed his eyes. He did not look towards Padmé's direction, nor towards Luke and Leia's. His gaze had been towards that of the ground but nothing in particular from the designs of the intricate tile. Anakin only saw black with nothing burned onto his eyelids, and it was soothing. A relief actually. The sensation of exhaustion was heavy upon his bones. An ache in his side being numbed after making itself noticed minutes prior. He had all but forgotten the blaster fire he had absorbed while making his way to the Halls. It was a familiar wound, one he had sustained many times while in battle. It was something his body could endure for a prolonged period of time, just as the cloak of exhaustion was a native amongst the lands of his mind.

Peace. A feeling one felt once a war was over. Anakin felt it, and it confused him. Why should a person who felt nothing but turmoil within feel the way he did in that moment?

Violence was something he wanted to maintain on those who betrayed him. On the clones that had their minds obtained by another and against him. That betrayed their leaders, their comrades - the ones that led and saved them in battle. That killed their brothers that remained sane enough not to take on the murderous rampage of Order 66. That killed the Jedi's he had known since his arrival on Coruscant all those years ago; the ones who had guided him, raised him.

Violence was something he wanted to maintain on those who betrayed him. All of those who followed the ways of the Jedi, were raised to be one and who were one. It was his initiative to end their lives for ending his. For so long he had lived under their constant control and restrictions. Their scrutiny and unwillingness to believe that the Chosen One should release his full potential. Denying him from his mother and his lover. The tortuous pull against the emotions he wanted to emit for it was not the Jedi way. They had chosen him to be a Jedi, yet never accepted him. And the only person who did brought him to realise they had been against him all along. The war pertaining to the Chosen One and they were all on the opposing side against him.

Anakin's eyes opened to peer at the shrill cry from who turned out to be Luke - his son. Padmé had always said that if they were to have a boy, she would love to name him Luke. After all, she had always insisted that it was a son they would have, not a daughter. That was against his own knowledge that it was a girl that would bless the world with her arrival. Much to Anakin's dismay, his son acquired traits of him he didn't want to give. They deserved the warmth of their mother. The neutral tones of Earth - brown eyes and brown hair. Colours of warmth and growth. The obvious colours that his Leia had inherited as he had wanted. Not the colours of a desert. The yellow of sand and blue of blazing skies. A constant reminder of being enslaved to those who should never be given contentment or happiness. Who should be entrapped to do a monster's bidding just as the enslaved always had to.

Blue eyes were concealed once more as Anakin brought both hands to caress his muffled mind. It brought him back to his thoughts and the fighting that pursued. Comparing his son to that of being enslaved was denying any ounce of morality to remain in his thought process. The darkness bellowing inside like a thunderous wind ensured no part of the man could find shelter from it. That the dragon, though in a slumber, still released flames from his nostrils while he dreamed. It would continue to burn him. To blacken and create a coarse texture to where softness should be. To allow his furnace heart not to fizzle but to explode and char everything in its wake. It would leave his insides dark with no light.

How could he have let it get so far? To fall so far from the light and skim beneath the dark? It had always been there, though. Anakin knew it, as did the knowledge that he would birth into it as something else. As someone else.

Darth Vader.

Words were being spoken around him, of transport and the necessity for anybody who could fight to barricade the patients and ensure their safety from any possible attacks. They were to be moved to safety, to a ship in the Hangar awaiting them where they were to be taken to an unknown location. He was to be taken to an unknown location with people he did not trust nor did he trust with his family. Any other time, Anakin would be for diving into a battle with no sight at the end of the tunnel. This time, that wasn't the case. He was tired. Angry. Relieved. Yearning. Betrayed. So many coinciding emotions that created a curtain of perplexity.

Who could he trust if he couldn't trust the ones he always had? When everybody was against him, who could he trust?

 _Padmé_. Her name was the first to fill his mind, eyes awakening to look at her unconscious form. A new white dress was wrapped around her, replacing the bloodied uniform she wore to birth her children. She glowed, a candescent appearance and a strong heartbeat. His soul becoming brighter with each passing minute as her life strengthened. For what she had been through that night was something he hoped she would never go through again. That neither of them would.

Her pain lingered heavily in his bones. The inner turmoil of knowing and feeling like it was too late… The loss of hope when she looked at him. The thought of how she had recoiled from him outside of the Jedi Temple niggled into his mind. How she had tried to protect her baby… Their babies from him.

A scowl blossomed onto his already strained features, realising that trusting Padmé was something that might not be returned. Would she still trust him when she woke? Could he trust her since, after all, she had been against him? Just as the others whom he put his life into, it was not returned because they were opposed to his nature. How could he extend himself to her now that she might not accept who he was?

"Young Skywalker," the soothing voice of Master Ti delicately wrapped the air around him.

Ignoring the usage of his age, Anakin mustered himself to rise. Shoulders set and chind turned upwards in a form of respect for himself and the air of the Master. The need to end a Jedi was strong, but the gratitude for her care for the twins was stronger. "Master," he answered monotonously.

Her black eyes skimmed over him, as if assessing. He didn't like it, though she gave no sign of an ill nature his way. "We must start our trek to the Hangar. A ship awaits the patients."

A nod was returned as his gaze fell upon first his twins, then his wife. The distrust towards the Jedi was strong in him, but the well-being of his family was stronger. He could easily request for a personal ship to dismount him away from the Temple, his family safe in his control away from the traitorous Council members and 501st Legion. Surely C-3PO was near. The only ship available for her use in the Republica's Hangar Bay was the star skiff. His knowledge of the vessel was up to par and Anakin would be able to maneuver them safely away since it was a ship that belonged to a senator. _And has sublight engines and laser cannons_ , Anakin couldn't help but add on to fuel his argument.

"Anakin," Shaak Ti's voice broke his concentration of his plan bringing his annoyed eyes upon her. "If Senator Amidala and her children are to survive, we must maintain their progress with watchful eyes. On the hospital ship, such a task can be successful, but it is your duty to ensure they make it to safety."

It was a trait of the Togrutan Master that Anakin disliked - her ability to decipher the aura of another. To read the Force Signature and decode it from any discrepancies, using it against them to make them see cause. He did not want to trust her, but she was the only one genuinely perceptive of his family's security. An hour earlier, she would have met the end with his blade through her heart. Now, she was alive and leading him.

"I'll flank behind them and make sure no blaster fire meets them," Anakin answered simply.

* * *

The majority of the shots fired their way were in need to make contact with any sentient being wielding a luminous blade. Each sound finalising its route made to kill and others sent the fire recoiling to his masters. With such robotic gestures, it was easier for each Jedi to counteract the clone troopers attacks. Their aim reduced to blind shots fleeing their way in hopes that a target was hit, not much of their actual intelligence used to guarantee that it was actually done.

It gave the Jedis enough knowledge that Anakin Skywalker no longer led his troops simply due to the fact that he was now killing them. No remorse showed on his face - no sense of a General loosing his comrades. He fought alongside those fighting the 501st Legion and that alone paved the way that a new Clone War was unfolding before them. It was against the Clones.

"Rex, you're giving me a little too much fun over here," Skywalker's voice could be heard bouncing around the halls. Intermingling with the cries and battle shouts of younglings, babies, and Jedis alike.

"That's the first time I hear you complain about that," Captain Rex replied with an obvious smirk emitting through the helmet that had been long since removed.

Too much was bombarding the mind of Anakin as he maintained his stance twenty feet behind the wounded patients that were being transported. Emergency protocol had gone underway with every and any Force-user ran the halls of the Jedi Temple. Some were fighting the waves of red fire shot their way, doing what they could to protect the sacred place they called home. Others ran in the direction of the Hangar, seeking refuge in an escape that was promised their way. The older younglings, one deemed fit to become another's padawan remained on the battlefront along with others, dismay filling Anakin at the sight.

Their bravery was treasured, but children shouldn't be raised for this cataclysmic slaughter. It only brought the dragon back into his mind, claws gouging his eyes and making them see his morality with the fact that a short hour prior, it would have been himself that they would be up against. His cold blade leading them to darkness and not a burst of red light. Blue invited them while red led them to fight. They would have never stood a chance… Betrayers given their rightful end…

A roar sounded from Anakin's throat, a Force blast throwing five troopers into the stone wall, a web sprawling out from where their broken backs made impact with the stone and their lifeless bodies littering the floor.

While in the operating room, he had been tired - weak. Now, he was alive in the bloodlust. Fulfilling the necessity of life being taken in return for his retribution for fighting with a cause always meant for evil. To shoot at their General, their leader? They weren't his brothers, but mere droids acting as a system failure.

To be in his own action against what only _he_ perceived as the opposing side was the only action left fighting for. That was Anakin Skywalker's war. It was against his own thoughts and not those of his mind being influenced by another's perception of how it should be. He was not lost for thinking someone evil, because everyone was. The Jedi sought peace but fought for justice. Chancellor Palpatine cracked a whip upon everyone beneath him despite having taken him in so long ago. The galaxy could not be just one and not the other. That was the true war, picking just one side to be apart of.

Let it be the Dark side of the Force reigning in him, Anakin would accommodate to the hate he felt for those that acted without morality. He would gladly welcome a part of him that embraced the emotions he felt. It was no longer the dragon managing his movements, determining what came next and who would die in its wake. No longer was the image of himself as Darth Vader reigning in his eyesight. It was Anakin Skywalker. Anakin's blade swung across the sliced air into a neck and out of a rib. It was Anakin sensing his wife's unconsciousness and children's liveliness behind him as the rumbling engines of rising aircraft in a confined space echoed raucously into his ears. The Light of their existence bringing forth the lightness to his steps, the swiftness to his movements and the wholeness to his actions. The Dark and the Light of the Force ran as one.

He would no longer be apart of the war that he had brought upon the Jedi Temple. He would not fight for either sides. The Dark and the Light would not define him, but they would reign alongside each other only as Anakin Skywalker would allow them to be.

The Chosen One was meant to bring balance to the Force, and the scales could not be even if one side was favoured.


End file.
